Memories, A Wedding Ring, and Love Along the Way
by Keegan Elizabeth
Summary: Sara wakes up in a hospital wearing a wedding ring. GSR.
1. Chapter 1

Title: **Memories, A Wedding Ring, and Love Along the Way**

Disclaimer: I still do not own CSI. If only I did, then think of all the fun that I could have!

A/N: After the kind reviews to my first fanfic, I decided that I would start writing a story that came into my head shortly after I finished All Mine. Please do read and review! There really is nothing like having a mailbox full of "review alerts." It's great I'm telling you! Lastly, thanks for taking the time to check out my story! More things will make sense in the coming chapters, I promise!

A/N2: Again I would like to thank the lovely, **graciebutterfliedgsr**, for the beta and for being my sounding board. She's fabulous! All mistakes are mine.

* * *

With a small groan of pain, Sara slowly regained consciousness. Her eyelids were heavy and felt as if they were covered with lead weights. When she finally managed to open her eyes, she immediately wished she hadn't. The florescent lights on the ceiling were blinding her. Blinking several times, she thought, "Can't someone please dim the lights?"

After two failed attempts to sit up, Sara collapsed back onto the bed. Questions were racing through her mind. _Where am I? What happened? Why does my head hurt so damn bad, and why does my body feel like it has been used as a punching bag?_ She couldn't seem to help the wave of panic that was coming over her and was clawing at her throat as she struggled to remember her own name. _Okay, don't freak out. Take a deep breath. My name is…damn why is this so hard? Okay, my name is… Sara. Yes, her name was Sara!_ She breathed out a sigh of relief. _My name is Sara Sidle. That wasn't so hard._ _Well, harder than it should have been, although not impossible. _However, she wasn't sure why the simple act of recalling her name seemed to have exponentially increased the pain in her head. What had seemed so painful moments before was now only considered a minor annoyance compared to how her head currently felt. To make matters worse, the pain she was feeling was starting to make her feel nauseous. _I need some saltines and an entire bottle of Tylenol._

Moaning again and louder this time, she registered the sounds of beeping machines and came to the realization that she must be in a hospital. Which hospital and where it was located were the unanswered questions.

"Oh good! You're awake," a cheerful voice said. Sara was not sure where the voice originated from or to whom it belonged, but she quickly decided that she was in too much pain to care at the moment.

"My name is Mary," she continued. "I am going to be your nurse this afternoon. If you need anything when I'm not here, then you just push the red call button on the remote. I'll place the remote, which also controls the TV in the room, on your bed before I leave your room so that you can reach it easily. Anyway, after you press the button it will connect you to the nurses' station and all you need to do is to tell them that you need me to come. Shift changes at around 7 p.m., and Grace will be your night shift nurse. You will like her a lot. She's friendly and an excellent nurse. If you don't mind, I just need to do some routine checks. I promise to try to be as quick as I can and not cause you any additional discomfort. Also I need to give you your pain medicine. You are due for your next dose, and from the sound of things when I walked in, you are in need of it. I will warn you that it will make you sleepy. Although, in your current condition, sleep is well recommended."

As the woman came over to check her stats, Sara was able to get her initial look at the owner of the voice. She was a petite woman, who appeared to be in her early thirties and had curly red hair that was loosely pulled back into a ponytail. Her nurse was busy jotting down notes in her charts so Sara took the chance to look around her room for the first time. The walls were a stark white, which was broken up only by some truly ugly beige curtains, covering a window she assumed, and two medium-sized paintings. One showed a landscape of mountains and a river while the other depicted a desert scene that actually was halfway decently painted. In addition to the dressing drawer that sat to the right of her hospital bed, there was a forest green chair that looked to be so uncomfortable that Sara felt a pang of sympathy for anyone unfortunate enough to have to sit in it.

While she had been busy scanning her room, Mary had emptied a syringe full of clear liquid, the promised pain medicine she hoped, into the IV that had been inserted into the vein in her right arm at some unknown time. Her nurse had also been keeping up a steady flow of conversation, which was okay with Sara since Mary did not seem to mind or notice that she had yet to reply back.

Truthfully, she had only been half listening to the nurse's friendly chatter when Mary finally captured her attention by saying, "Your husband should be back any minute now. According to the other nurses on this floor, he has not left your bedside since you were placed into your private room. I don't think I have ever seen a man so worried about someone in my life. If I wasn't happily married with two kids, then I think I might be extremely jealous of you. As it stands now, I'm only just a little bit jealous of you, and that is because I'm working hard at that. I swear I had to tell him today that we were going to ban him from your room if he would not go take an hour's break. We would, of course, never ban your husband from your room. I promise. However, he doesn't need to know that…"

Sara started to tune her out. _Her husband?_ With some effort because her body was sore all over, she slowly lifted her left hand. On her ring finger, a plain gold band sat. Confusion was quickly becoming a constant state of mind.

Snapping Sara out of her reverie, Mary exclaimed, "There's your husband now. I told you he would be back any time now."

Her eyes were beginning to feel heavy again but still Sara turned her head toward her hospital room's doorway. The man's clothes were wrinkled, and he looked like he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in days. He also looked vaguely familiar.

He came into her room, slowly. Their eyes met, and Sara could have sworn that he looked like he was nervous and a bit unsure of himself. But the moment quickly passed, and she assumed that she had been mistaken. _Why would he be so hesitant?_

The man continued into her room until he stopped at her bedside. When he spoke, he tenderly said, "Hi honey." Before Sara could ask any of the million questions she had, the effects of her morphine proved too powerful, and she succumbed to sleep once more.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Writing a multiple chapter story is new to me so I hope that all of you will enjoy and continue to enjoy this story. I'm going to _try_ to update once a week. But as we all know real life can get in the way. Right now, I just started working, and I'm currently really sick w/ a bad upper respiratory infection. My sides are aching from coughing so much. Oh, do please review! Reviews make me happy & smile…and I bet they will make me feel better as well! 

A/N2: As always, I want to give a special thanks to **graciebutterfliedgsr** for her help. She rocks (seriously)! And as usual, all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: I still don't own CSI. And it's still depressing.

* * *

_Two days earlier…_

"Hey Sara! Are you finished with the inside of the house?" Nick asked as he stepped inside the residence of Mr. and Mrs. Thomas J. Smith and came back into her view. Sara was crouched down and was busy snapping another photograph. He had just finished processing the perimeter of the house and taking statements from a couple of the neighbors that had heard all of the night's commotion. Grissom had assigned the two of them a double murder, a husband and wife, at the beginning of shift. He was personally glad the case was close to being wrapped up because he was beat.

"Yeah. I just have a few more things to bag and tag, and I will be done." Catching Nick yawning, she offered, "Why don't you head back to the lab to drop off your stuff and head home? I can finish up here by myself."

"Sara, I'm fine," he replied. Sometimes he seriously worried about her. _How could she even think I would leave her in this type of neighborhood?_

"Nick, you're about to drop. I know you just finished another double murder that turned out to be complicated, not to mention disturbing on many levels. You didn't even have a chance to catch but a couple of hours of sleep at the lab before you were assigned this case with me. I have maybe a half an hour or so longer, and I'll be gone as well. I really don't mind if you leave a few minutes early."

"What about this? I help you inside. You'll finish faster that way, and we _both_ can go home sooner," Nick suggested. "This is not such a good neighborhood. People are definitely not baking chocolate chip cookies here if you catch my drift. Besides, Grissom would kill me if I even thought about leaving you. Sara, I value my life," he finished gallantly.

"Fine. Fine. Let's just finish." Sara was a bit exasperated, but she knew when to concede. Nick was not going to leave her, and she really did appreciate his big brother protectiveness. It was actually kind of sweet. However, she did choose to completely ignore Nick's remark about Grissom and focused back on the task at hand. Now was not the time to consider how Grissom felt about her.

Less than fifteen minutes later, they were finished. They had concluded, based on the evidence at the crime scene and on the accounts of the neighbors, that the Smiths had an argument, which escalated into increasing violence and ended with the husband shooting his wife. The husband then killed himself. Sara was not sure if the husband committing suicide was out of remorse for what he had done or out of fear of a prison sentence. The whole thing was depressing. The case had been clear-cut and easy, but in the end two people were still dead. _There's nothing I can do to change the facts._

Nick's voice brought her back into the moment. "Let's head out." He had noticed Sara's quiet demeanor tonight. He wasn't quite sure what was wrong, but she seemed to be a bit off all during shift. She still had done a great job tonight, but he could tell that her mind kept drifting off somewhere else. _Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will find out what's wrong with her. I'm just so tired right now that I can't think straight._

"I'll meet you back in the lab in about twenty some-odd minutes," he said in lieu of a goodbye greeting as they headed out the door.

They had driven separately to the crime scene so now Nick waved to her from where she was standing at the door of her Denali. While Nick sped away, she got into her vehicle but still did not drive away. Instead she dug deep into her pant's pocket and pulled out the small object that had been on her mind since she had received it in the mail.

As she sat in her car, she stared at the ring. She had received the package containing the ring yesterday before heading into work. She had been running late to work, which was something she always hated, because of the arrival of the package. She considered being on time for work as in being there at least fifteen minutes before shift started. So due to the fact she had been running late and coupled with the busy night that a double murder, no matter how straightforward it was, resulted in, she hadn't really had an opportunity to closely examine the ring. It looked like your average gold wedding band. She had seen dozens of women wear them. _There is nothing special about the ring. Nothing special at all except it had belonged to her maternal grandmother._ A grandmother she didn't even know had existed. When she was a little kid, her mother had told her that her parents were dead. Considering the source now, she guessed she shouldn't have believed her. _Well it doesn't matter._

It didn't matter anymore because a grandmother she had never known had died. She had died and willed the ring to her because apparently she knew about her. Her grandmother had also written a letter, which had accompanied the ring in the package.

She had started to read the letter. Honestly, she had. In the end, the memories had been all too painful, and she had not been able to finish reading what her grandmother had written to her. The letter was still lying half open on her bedside nightstand. Angry with herself for her lack of courage, she decided as she sat in her car that she would finish reading the letter when she got home. She always faced her problems head-on, and she was not about to let the ghosts from her past haunt her. She would read it, and she would figure out how to make peace with what she learned.

Thinking that she was probably completely crazy to do so, Sara gingerly placed the ring on her left hand on its proper finger. She wanted, if only for a moment, a brief connection to the woman she had never known. Turning her hand to face her, she admired how the ring caught the sunlight. _This is probably the closest I will ever get to wearing a wedding ring. Grissom is never going to come around. Unrequited love sucks._

Shaking her head at her moment of what she deemed as insanity and her feelings of sadness, Sara tried in vain to pull the ring off her finger. _CRAP! No, no! This cannot be happening to me! I cannot go back to the lab with a ring on my finger. We are freaking crime scene investigators; someone is bound to notice the little metal addition to my left hand._

She blamed herself for being too distracted by her muffled curses and her failed attempts to force the ring off her finger that she did not hear or notice her door being opened. She did, however, hear the unmistakable click of a 9mm loading, and she froze in her seat. Her night was just about to get worse. _Great. This is all she needed to put a finishing cap on her miserable night/morning._

"Get out of the car!" When Sara didn't immediately move to do so, the man became angrier and yelled, "Now!" He took matters into his own hands and grabbed her by her left arm and jerked her out of her vehicle, causing her to stumble and almost fall onto the concrete sidewalk. Sara stood up and found herself face to face with her attacker. He was tall and mean looking. Because of her C.S.I. training, she was able to quickly assess that he had to be about 6'1 and weighed roughly 190 pounds. All these were signs that she shouldn't mess with him. She should just let him take her vehicle and whatever else he wanted.

If Sara had been thinking clearly and had not been so emotionally tied up in knots, then she would have realized the obvious. She was both outweighed and out armed. Her gun was sitting on the passenger seat of her car, which was no help to her current situation. But Sara was tired and angry. The arrival of the package from her late grandmother had made her emotionally raw. So she reacted emotionally and not rationally. Hell, it wasn't like it was the first time she let herself be ruled by passion.

Without truly thinking of the consequences of her actions, she made the decision that she was not going to stand around and allow herself to be carjacked and mugged. She fought back. Wrong choice. She realized it as soon as she took a good look into the man's eyes. His pupils were dilated. Her assailant was high on cocaine, and listening to the man's ravings, she quickly realized that he must have scored a large amount of blow. _This is not good._ She knew instinctively that this man was extremely dangerous, more so than she originally assumed. _Damn it, why had she allowed herself to be so distracted?_

Ordering her voice to remain calm, she said, "My purse is in the car. Take the money in it, if you want. The keys are in my purse as well." As she finished speaking, she started to turn as in to walk away.

Wrong move. Again.

The man apparently was not feeling very friendly toward her and reared back and hit her head with the butt of his gun. She fell to the concrete, landing on her left side. _Ow, shit that hurt! _She tried to get up to run away, but the man started brutally kicking her all over. Trying to block the attacks, she curled up her body as tightly as she could. _Please, please let him leave._ Moaning in pain, she could hear him rustling through her purse and seconds later she heard her purse drop to the ground beside her and the sound of her Denali speeding away.

"I need to call…" was her last thought as she faded into oblivion


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So I bet you didn't expect an update so soon, did you? I, honestly, didn't either! I'm still sick, but everyone was so kind in their reviews and wanting me to update soon that I felt like I should try and write some more! This isn't how I originally pictured Ch. 3 turning out, but this is what came out so I hope you like it! 

A/N2: As usual this is the time I thank my beta, **graciebutterfliedgsr**. Without her, I don't know what I would do! All mistakes are mine.

A/N3: I finally made a decision on when this story takes place in the CSI timeline, which is after the season 5 finale. For this story, season 6 and after does not exist in my story world.

Disclaimer: I sadly do not own CSI. Mourn with me…

* * *

As Sara was being assaulted, Nick was searching for her at the lab. 

"Hey man, have you seen Sara?" Nick questioned Greg as he stuck his head into the DNA lab.

"What happened, Nicky? Did Sara get tired of seeing your face and decide to hide from you?" Greg joked. He was in the middle of processing some DNA evidence for a case he had been working with Grissom so he didn't register the worry that was in Nick's voice.

"Yeah, yeah. Very funny, Greg. If you see her, then just let me know. Okay?" Nick said as he backed out of the room.

He had been back at the crime lab for about twenty minutes, and Sara had still not returned from the Smith's house. He was a little ashamed to admit it, but for the first ten minutes, he had actually been a bit frustrated and annoyed with Sara for not arriving any sooner. He was exhausted and wanted to finish the paperwork on their case. She even knew how tired he was. No one could blame him for wanting to go home, right? He just really wanted and needed to indulge in about eight blissful hours of uninterrupted sleep. His body needed to be refueled. He wasn't as young as he was when he had started out; he couldn't pull a double or a triple anymore without his body feeling the effects.

Then the ten minutes he had waited had turned into fifteen minutes and into twenty minutes. He was beginning to seriously worry. She really should have been back at the lab by now. He had called her cell phone twice already but that had been a futile exercise. Her phone kept ringing and ringing until her voicemail picked up. _Maybe her ring volume was on low or her battery had died. _

He was probably stressing out for nothing. Sara was a big girl. She could take care of herself. She's more than likely stuck in some traffic. _You didn't run into any traffic on your way back to the lab. _His mind was determined to play devil's advocate. _Well, yeah, but there could have been an accident that occurred moments after I had left. Oh God, what if she had been in an accident? _Mentally scolding himself, he told himself that there was no sense in jumping to conclusions, especially ones that were unpleasant in nature. He knew he was having a hard time not thinking negatively because of what had happened to him only a few months before. _Don't think about that either…_

Sara may have just needed to stop for gas. Hadn't he noticed that earlier at the scene she had seemed distracted? He bet that she had forgotten to fill up, causing her to have to make an emergency pit stop at a gas station on the way back in to work. Feeling a bit more positive, he smiled as he thought, "Yeah, that's what had happened."

Just to be on the safe side, though, he decided to find Catherine and Warrick to ask if they had seen or heard from her as well. Who knows she might be at the lab, and they had just kept missing each other. It was entirely possible, he assured himself.

_xxx_

He found his two friends in the break room talking about their case.

"I'm telling you now Warrick that guy is hiding something…" Catherine broke off what she had been saying when she saw Nick standing in the doorway. "Hey, did you and Sara finish up your case already? This case that Grissom assigned to us is about to give me a headache. We have several suspects, who all seem to have alibis, and all of our evidence, thus far, is inconclusive. We seriously need to catch some kind of break. If you see Sara, then tell her we could always use some extra help…" Her voice trailed off once more when she heard Nick's softly spoken, "Damn it!"

"Hey, what's wrong?" Warrick was quick to ask. Now that he had taken a second look at his friend he could tell something was bothering Nick.

"It's just that I was coming in here to ask you guys if you had seen Sara, although it's now obvious that you haven't," Nick replied. "I don't know what to do. I've been back here at the lab for close to twenty-five minutes waiting for Sara to return. I tried calling her on her cell phone but all it does is keep ringing. I was hoping that she was back, and we had just been missing each other in the hallways. I had hoped you guys had seen her when she was looking around for me."

"Why don't you go tell Grissom what's going on? I saw him in his office earlier, and I'll try Sara's cell again," Catherine suggested, trying to keep the concern she felt out of her voice.

"Yeah, I'll do that," Nick said.

As he headed out in search for their supervisor, Warrick and Catherine shared a worried look. They were both thinking the same thing. _This does not sound good._

_xxx_

"Bureaucratic nonsense," Grissom muttered under his breath. He was currently sitting at his desk, shifting through what seemed like piles of paperwork Ecklie had requested he fill out and complete by the end of the week. Today was now Thursday. _I'm never going to finish this, and Ecklie's going to be majorly pissed. What's new? Ecklie's also a pain in the ass. Again, what's new? I sometimes wonder why I bother…_

He would much rather be processing evidence from the case he and Greg were working on instead of sitting in his office with paperwork to fill out. He could honestly care less what Ecklie thought of him, but he had managed only three months ago to reunite the team after Nick had been kidnapped and buried alive. _Let's not go there…_

_Maybe I can convince Catherine into helping me out with some of this since she is always telling me to play the politics game. _With that thought in mind and decidedly more cheerful than he had been moments before, he decided that he would go find Greg to see how their case was progressing.

As he was putting away the paperwork on his desk, Nick rushed into his office.

"Grissom, have you seen or heard from Sara within the past half hour? I've been back at the lab for about thirty minutes but haven't seen her yet." Nick asked. _Please God let him say yes._ His gut was getting a really bad feeling, and he couldn't shake it.

Grissom took in Nick's worried expression and dread quickly filled his stomach. "What happened?" he demanded. "Tell me a good reason why you don't know where Sara is! I assigned the two of you to a case. A case that is located in the middle of a very rough section of Las Vegas. It's simple math. If two people go out, then that means that two people should return! You're telling me now that you don't know where Sara is? If something happens to her, then it's going to be your fault!" His voice had steadily risen in volume until the last part was said in a half-shout. Maybe it was because he had been thinking only moments ago about what had happened to Nick and how helpless he had felt then that caused him to raise his voice when normally he was much more controlled. He didn't know the exact reason why but decided now wasn't the time to analyze things.

Nick was too worried about Sara to be shocked by Grissom's uncharacteristic outburst. He quickly filled his supervisor in on what he knew, which was really nothing.

"I just thought that she had to stop to get gas or maybe was tied up in some traffic. I tried calling her cell, but all it did was ring. I swear when I left she was standing at the door of her car. I just assumed she would be following me. I honestly don't know what to think anymore. I'm probably freaking out because of what happened a few months ago. She's got to be fine, right?"

Grissom, though, wasn't willing to take any chances with Sara's life.

"Nick, call Brass. Explain the situation and tell him to put an immediate APB out on Sara and her vehicle. Then you need to round up Catherine, Warrick, and Greg and meet me at the Smith's house. I'm leaving now." Without waiting for any reply from Nick, Grissom grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He knew that he had just blown up at Nick, but he really could not bring himself to care at the moment. All his thoughts and energy were solely focused on Sara and finding her.

_xxx_

Grissom hurried out into the early morning hours across the parking lot and jumped into his department-issued Denali. Speeding away, he ordered himself to remain calm. Fifteen seconds later, he decided that it was useless. He was, to use Nick's term, freaking out.

_What if something had happened to her? _It had been close to an hour since Nick had last seen Sara. It would take him at minimum another fifteen minutes, and that was with him breaking at least a dozen speeding laws, to get to the crime scene. _Don't think of it as a crime scene…_

More than likely, he was going to find Sara inside the house, processing some more evidence. His mind started to fabricate a scenario of what had happened. Nick had driven away, and Sara got into her car only to realize that she had forgotten something in the house. Getting out of her car, she unintentionally left her cell phone sitting on the vehicle's dashboard, which was why she hadn't answered any of Nick's calls. Going back into the Smith's house, she had found some additional evidence that had been overlooked, and she then made sure she correctly documented and processed it. Additionally, knowing Sara, she had probably walked through the entire house once more to make sure she hadn't missed anything else.

Grissom, though, was conveniently overlooking the fact that it was not like Sara to completely fail to notice important evidence. She was an exceptional crime scene investigator. However, he really truly was desperate to believe that she was perfectly fine so his mind refused to acknowledge how unlike Sara the scenario he created was. _Just like he was choosing not to recall that the Smith's home was located in a very bad neighborhood._

_Sara is going to be fine. Just fine. Nothing has happened to her. When I get there, I bet she will be heading back out toward her vehicle. If she knew how worried I am right now, then she would probably laugh. Maybe she wouldn't even believe me…_

He did know that he was going to give her a thirty-minute lecture on the dangers of reckless behavior. _Really what had she been thinking –staying at a crime scene alone that's in the middle of a major drug area?_ Seriously, a lecture was the least she deserved for scaring him so badly. If his hair wasn't already turning gray, then he knew that this incident would have done the job.

On the remainder of his drive to the Smith's house, Grissom kept repeating to himself, "Sara is going to be fine. She's perfectly okay," until it had become a mantra.

_xxx_

Finally, he came into view of the Smith's dilapidated one-story house, and his heart literally stopped. Sara's lifeless body was crumpled on the sidewalk. Without thought or any care, he threw his vehicle into park in the middle of the street and rushed over to Sara's side. She was lying on her back with her left arm slightly beneath her and her right hand resting on her torso. He immediately checked for a pulse. It was there. A little too weak and irregular for his personal comfort, but it was present. _Thank you, God._ He hadn't even been aware that he had been holding his breath until is swooshed out as a huge sigh of relief. "Sara, honey, wake up. Please," he shook her ever so slightly and pleaded with her. There was no response.

Grabbing his cell phone from his belt clip, Grissom hurriedly dialed 911.

"This is 911, what's your emergency?" the operator said as she answered.

Reminding himself to remain composed, Grissom quickly gave the lady the address to the Smith's house and Sara's vital information. He also explained that she was unconscious but that he had no idea how long she had been so.

He knew that proper protocol was that you were supposed to stay on the line with the operator until help came. He, however, did not want to stay on the line so he hung up, much to the operator's consternation.

What he really wanted to do was to pick Sara up and hold her in his arms. He knew it was slightly irrational of him to think so but he wanted to rock her in his arms until she was better, like you would do to a child. However, he was afraid to touch or move her in any way because of the fear that he might cause her more harm or damage by accident.

Noticing the large bruise that was forming on the right side of her head, he softly stroked her hair away from her face. Helpless to do anything more, he reached for her right hand and held it as he sat beside her to wait for the ambulance to arrive.

* * *

A/N4: Thanks to **mindreaders**, I got the idea that I would send a sneak peek of the next chapter (Ch. 4 in this case) to those that review. B/c reviews make my day and also seriously it's good to hear feedback on whether or not you're liking where I'm going w/ the story. So I thought it would be a win/win situation all around. Hope you like this additional feature to my story :-D The sneak peek will be sent as soon as I have something decent written down for the chapter! 


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This isn't a new chapter, just a repost...SORRY ahead of time for any confusion! I just wanted to fix a quick mistake that was pointed out to me! **

A/N2: I am surprised once more by the early update, but this story is flowing very well (hope that continues)! To update on me, I had to go to the E.R. Tuesday (was there 6 and ½ hours). While there waiting (patiently) to be told that I had acute bronchitis (yes I had to put that into the story) and that's why I have felt like I'm dying, I did find it to be very ironic that I was in the middle of writing this chapter, which takes place in the E.R.

A/N3: **Graciebutterfliedgsr** is my fabulous beta, and I would like to give her a HUGE thanks for being awesome. All mistakes that remain are mine.

A/N4: I watched tonight's episode, and I'm still so deeply saddened. I hope this story will cheer you up (even though it hasn't gotten to the peak of fluffiness yet…I promise it will come). Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter & thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI. If I owned CSI, then I wouldn't have shed tears tonight!

* * *

The piercing sound of an ambulance siren drawing nearer and nearer jerked Grissom back to the present. He had been sitting by Sara on the sidewalk outside of the Smith's house, wrapped up in memories of her. 

The ambulance came to an abrupt stop, and two uniformed EMTs quickly jumped out. "Sir, give us some room please," one of the techs said.

Grissom reluctantly stood up and stepped back. He didn't want to let go of Sara's hand. He didn't want to be apart from her at all. He really didn't want to lose his physical connection to Sara, even if it was just holding her hand. He was worried what would happen. _Not like he had been able to prevent this from happening to Sara._

"Do you have any idea how long she has been unconscious?" asked an EMT. Grissom shook his head no. The two men continued to examine Sara. One of the men placed an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth while the other started an IV in her left arm.

They were placing Sara on a stretcher when Nick, Catherine, Warrick, and Greg arrived at the scene, and he went to meet them halfway so as for them not to disrupt the EMT's work.

"What happened?" Catherine demanded.

"Is she okay?" Warrick asked.

"Who did this?" Greg questioned.

Lastly, "This is all my fault," Nick softly spoke.

"I don't know any answers. I found Sara on the sidewalk unconscious. I couldn't wake her, and I called 911. She's been badly beaten and has a large bruise on the right side of her head that looks to be really serious. They're about to take her to Desert Palm Hospital, and I'm going with them," Grissom informed his team, struggling to keep his voice dispassionate.

"Brass has an APB out on Sara's vehicle, and we'll all stay here to see if we can find any kind of evidence. Sara will need to be processed at some point as well," Catherine said.

"I know that, Catherine. Right now, though, I don't even know if she'll make it," Grissom interjected and rapidly walked away. He was afraid that if he stayed any longer his voice might begin to crack. He was having a difficult time keeping his emotions at bay.

"I'm going to go with Grissom to the hospital. He shouldn't be alone," Greg told his friends and then hurried to catch up with his supervisor and mentor.

The three remaining CSI's looked on as they saw Greg approach Grissom and place a hand on his arm to stop him. Grissom turned around, and they could see Greg emphatically telling Grissom something. The brief conversation between the two ended with Grissom nodding his head in the affirmative.

"Okay, now, let's get to work," Catherine said as she turned toward her two colleagues. As she took in Nick's face, she could tell he was still visibly upset.

"Nick, it's not your fault what happened to Sara."

"Well, that's not what Grissom said to me earlier, and that is not how I feel! I shouldn't have left her here. God, what was I thinking?" Nick sharply replied back. _If anything happens to Sara…_

"Grissom did not mean what he said, Nick. He'll come around. I promise. He's just worried, that's all. Really worried…" _God, please let Sara be okay._

_xxx_

There hadn't been enough room in the ambulance for him to ride with Sara. He had started to vehemently protest, but Greg came up and had stopped him. Greg told the EMTs that he would follow the ambulance and drive the two of them to the hospital. They nodded and carefully loaded Sara into the ambulance.

"Thanks," Grissom quietly said to Greg.

"No problem." The ambulance sped off, and Greg hopped into the driver's seat of Grissom's Denali and trailed behind. The man was really in no shape to drive. He didn't think he had ever seen Grissom quite like this before, even when Nick had been kidnapped.

The drive to the hospital passed by in a blur, and when they arrived, the Emergency Room parking lot was full, causing him to have to park about a half mile away from the entrance.

As soon as he parked, both he and Grissom hurried inside to the Emergency Room, eager to hear of any news of how Sara was doing. He really hoped that she had awakened in the ambulance.

Asking a nurse, who was manning the front desk station, about information on Sara, they were informed that they would need to sit in the waiting room and someone would be with them as soon as possible.

The waiting room was full –seriously, packed out. "What is this 'National Get Sick and Go the Emergency Room' day?" Greg thought. He and Grissom turned from the front desk and returned to the waiting room sitting area. They managed to snag the last two available seats. On Grissom's right side, a weary mother sat, holding and trying unsuccessfully to calm down her inconsolable two-year-old little girl. The child's face was red and splotchy from all her crying. Sitting to the left of Greg was a young woman, who was clutching her sides as she was having a coughing fit. It sounded like she was actually choking at times. Greg felt badly for her, and he definitely thought that it sounded like a bad case of acute bronchitis.

There were other noises as well. More cries. Screams. Moans. Names called out loud by nurses. The sounds of doors being opened and closed as hospital employees rushed in and out. All of this did not faze Grissom. He had tuned out the noise almost immediately. It was a talent he had learned early in his life, and it had always served him well.

Greg, however, wasn't able to tune out everything as Grissom had. He had so much nervous energy that he was having a hard time sitting still. He wanted to know how Sara was. He decided he would try and lighten the mood. He knew that Grissom was taking this really hard.

"Hey, Gris. I heard this great joke the other day. What happened when the cow jumped over the fence?"

Grissom looked up, a bit startled. He said, "what?" in as much in deference to the joke as in to question Greg on his decision to tell jokes at this time.

Greg was oblivious to Grissom's thoughts so he replied back with the riddle's answer, "Utter destruction! Get it? See that was a good joke, right?"

"Yeah, thanks," Grissom said distractedly.

Greg must finally have sensed his need for some silence because he just sat there after that. In the peripheral part of his brain, Grissom truly was thankful for the young CSI for caring enough to be there with him. He appreciated it even if he was not outwardly showing it at the moment due to his concern for Sara.

_xxx_

Thirty minutes later, a nurse came over to where they were sitting and said, "A doctor would like to speak with you about the young woman you brought in. Please follow me." She took them through the waiting area and led them past the double doors to where a middle-aged doctor was standing, flipping through some files. "These are the two men who brought in the female patient," she told the doctor and left Greg and Grissom standing there.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Peter Jacobs." The doctor said as he extended his hand and shook both of their hands.

"Is she okay?" Grissom immediately asked.

"We're still trying to wake her, but she has been badly hurt. I need to ask a couple of questions. First of all, which one of you is her husband?" he asked pointing first at Greg and then finally at Grissom. "She's wearing a wedding ring. We cannot disclose any information about a patient unless it's to his or her family members. It's simply hospital procedure..."

"A wedding ring?" Grissom thought.

"A wedding ring? Sara's married? What the heck…" were Greg's thoughts.

Greg's normally fluent brain was still unable to process the unusual turn of events so while his jaw was still mentally dropped wide open, Grissom, on the other hand, thought fast and made a decision. A decision that he would look back on later and would acknowledge it was this moment that changed everything for him.

"Yes, I'm her husband. I'm Gil Grissom. She's my wife. Sara Sidle-Grissom."

Greg stared –dumbfounded by his supervisor's words. _What?! This is getting crazier and crazier. Have I entered the Twilight Zone? I'm going to wake up and this has all been some bizarre dream. I knew I shouldn't have eaten Taco Bell last night. _He was about to say something (what he wasn't quite sure), but Grissom turned his head slightly and silenced him with a look. _Okay then…_

"Okay good. Great," the doctor replied. "Mr. Grissom, we'll need you to fill out your wife's paperwork. When you came in things were a bit hectic, I know, but we will need that information. Like I said, we're still trying to wake her. I'm going to go back and check on her again. I will or a nurse will keep you informed of your wife's condition. For now, the two of you will just need to return to the waiting room area and wait."

_xxx_

"What was that about?" Greg asked as soon as the two of them had returned to their seats, thankfully still vacant. "How come Sara's wearing a wedding ring? Then you jumped in and said the two of you were married. Do you think it's illegal to lie about that?"

"Greg! Quiet, please? I need to fill out this paperwork on Sara. And you heard the doctor. The hospital is not allowed to give us any news on Sara if we are not family. It's just easier this way. I'll explain later. It will be fine; you know Sara wouldn't mind if we had updates on how she was doing. Now let me focus on this paperwork," Grissom said.

He did find it somewhat ironic that only a couple of hours ago –was it really only that long ago? It seemed to be so much longer, the drive to find Sara had seemed to take an agonizing amount of time –he was trying to get out of doing paperwork and now here he was kind of voluntarily filling out more paperwork.

As he worked on filling out the required papers, his mind was racing as well. _A wedding ring? What was Sara doing wearing a ring? She is not married. She can't be. Right? She wouldn't do that. Seriously, a wedding ring?! There's got to be a reasonable explanation for this –one that does not involve Sara being married to some loser guy (because was there really any guy that was good enough for his Sara…wait hold on not his Sara… just Sara. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Gil). _

_She's can't be married. Why can't she be married? _His mind refused to shut up._ Because…because she just wasn't supposed to get married. Except to me. Okay, stop. _He really wasn't quite ready or willing to admit how strongly he cared about Sara even to himself. Instead, he refocused his attention and quickly completed the paperwork on Sara. He went to hand it back to a nurse at the front station, who directed him to sit down again and wait some more.

Waiting. He considered himself to be a very patient man. He wasn't one to rush. He could easily and happily sit and wait for his bugs to evolve and go through the stages of life for hours at a time. He had no problem in doing so at all. Patience was a virtue he had in spades, or so he thought. However, waiting in the Emergency Room at the Desert Palm Hospital for news about Sara had to be about one of the worst experiences he had to endure. How could he be calm when he had absolutely no idea how Sara was? He didn't even know if she was awake. Or even alive... but that was somewhere he wasn't going to go. He desperately needed something in which to hold on to for hope because knowing nothing was the worst kind of torture.

_xxx_

"Mr. Grissom?" a young nurse called out into the still crowded waiting room.

He immediately rose and hurried over to her side. "Yes, that's me. Can you please tell me how Sara is doing?"

"Dr. Jacobs wanted me to let you know that your wife is finally waking up. She's in a lot of pain as you can imagine, and she is experiencing some confusion and dizziness. Sara has endured a really bad blow to her head and because she has been unconscious for some time now, we're going to be running a lot of tests to determine how severe the trauma to her head is. We need to make sure she does not have any kind of intercranial hemorrhaging. We'll be running several tests, including a MRI, an EEG, and a CT scan. Additionally, she appears to have some broken ribs."

As the young nurse continued to speak, Grissom felt himself grow more alarmed, if that was even possible. The nurse must have noticed the fear that was evident on his face. "I really wished I could tell you something more definite and more positive, but you do need to be aware of how critical your wife is at this moment. Head traumas are a tricky business and require a lot of tests to be run to determine the extent of damage. I promise that you'll be updated as often as possible. As much as I hate to tell you this all you can really do is sit back and wait. And pray. You can pray."

Grissom nodded his head in acknowledgement and thanked the nurse. He returned once more to his seat next to Greg. As soon as he was seated, the young man began to question him for information. Grissom, stoically, repeated what the nurse had told him.

"Man," Greg sighed. "Sara will be fine, Grissom. I really believe it. Haven't you heard of the power of positive thinking? Let's just think positive. It's really good that Sara is awake now so we'll just focus on that and not the negative. Let the doctors run the tests, and we'll see what they say. Besides, Sara is one of the most stubborn people I know. She's not going to let a little head injury keep her down. She's a fighter."

"Thanks, Greg. I want you to know that I do really appreciate you being here now with me." Grissom replied.

"It's all going to be alright," Greg said once more, and then the two lapsed back into silence, each lost in his own thoughts.

* * *

A/N5: So you know how it works: 1) Click the Review Button & let me know what you think. 2) I'll send you a sneak peek at Ch.5 as soon as I have something decent written! 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: First of all, I want to wish everyone a very Happy Thanksgiving (a day early). Hope everyone has a wonderful holiday! Secondly, I would like to thank my beta, **graciebutterfliedgsr**, for her help. You should check out some of her fics because not only is she a fabulous beta, but also she is a great writer. All mistakes remaining are mine. 

Disclaimer: I STILL do not own CSI…

* * *

He couldn't believe he missed it. Sara had awakened, and he hadn't been there. "I knew I shouldn't have left her bedside," Grissom angrily thought to himself, but the nurse had threatened to ban him from Sara's bedside. He really did not think that she would have the power to do so, but he hadn't been willing to risk the chance so he followed her orders to take an hour's break. Nurse Mary had left the room a while ago, but he was still standing at Sara's bedside holding her hand.

When he had stood at the doorway to Sara's hospital room and saw her awake his heart had rejoiced. Still, he moved cautiously into her room because he was not quite sure of himself. After all, he had told everyone that they were married. _I really hope she won't be mad at me._ He also hoped that she wouldn't say anything to contradict his lie in front of the nurse. He was still trying to figure out how to explain himself, not only to Sara but also to the hospital staff. _Surely, everyone will understand._ He knew he had told Greg earlier with confidence that Sara would be fine with his little pretense, but in actuality he really wasn't quite so sure. In fact, he was a bit nervous to be truthful.

He had called her honey when he took her hand. He had done so because the nurse was still in the room, and she would expect some kind of endearment from a worried husband. At least, that was the reason he told himself. _You can only keep lying to yourself for so long…_

_I really do have so much to tell Sara. _But she was asleep again, so the explanations would have to wait.

His knees were beginning to bother him from standing, so he let go of her hand to drag the green chair, which was complete hell on his back (among other body parts), close to Sara's bedside. He lowered the bar on her bed and reclaimed her hand.

"God, these past forty-eight hours have been trying," he thought as he rubbed his free hand over his face to try and wipe the tiredness away. He was drained both physically and mentally.

As he drifted off to sleep, the words and images of the past two days played through his mind like a movie.

_xxx_

Greg had told him to think positive. _Okay, positive thoughts. I am positive that I'm going to go crazy waiting._ He doubted, however, that that was what Greg had meant. _Okay, okay. Sara is strong. She's a fighter. I'm not going to give up hope on her because I know she wouldn't do that if our roles were reversed._

An hour later, Nick had rushed in with Catherine and Warrick on his heels.

Catherine had been the first to spot Greg and him. "How is she? Have you heard anything at all?" The three CSIs were anxious to hear what Grissom had to say.

Grissom told his team that Sara had awakened. All three were visibly relieved until Grissom continued. "She has some broken ribs. The nurse had said when Sara woke up she was dizzy and incoherent. The doctor is very concerned about the severity of her head trauma and thinks that there is a possibility that Sara may be hemorrhaging in her skull. Right now, they are running a lot of tests to determine how she is."

Warrick, Nick, and Catherine all looked at each other, in dismay. They really weren't sure what to say.

Catherine broke the silence first. "Greg, why don't you take Warrick and Nick and find some coffee for us to drink? If you can locate a cafeteria, then maybe you can pick up something that looks edible to eat as well."

The three male CSIs agreed and went off in search for the cafeteria. Meanwhile, Catherine took Greg's vacated seat.

"Did you find anything at the scene?" asked Grissom. It was what he had wanted to know when he first saw his team stepping into the Emergency Room.

She really hated to deliver more unpleasant news to Grissom but found no other choice in the matter. "I'm sorry, but there wasn't any evidence at the scene. But don't give up yet. Brass is determined to find Sara's vehicle. He has placed it as top priority. We _will_ get the bastard that is responsible for this."

"Thanks," Grissom replied. He was disappointed in the news. More bad news –it was becoming a pattern. "I probably should let you know something since I'm pretty sure that as we now speak Greg is filling in the guys…"

"What?" Catherine asked, a bit curious but never expecting to hear what came out of Grissom's mouth next.

"Sara's my wife." Catherine's jaw literally dropped and her eyes widened. _Oh, shit._ "I didn't mean it that way. Crap. I _had_ to do something. I had to tell them that so that they would give me updates on Sara's condition."

"And you couldn't have told them you were related to her some other way…like maybe her uncle?" Catherine asked, incredulous.

"Sara apparently has a wedding ring on her finger. I didn't notice earlier when I first found her because I was a little bit more concerned about her barely breathing. The doctor asked who her husband was. I didn't really have time to think it through; I just reacted."

It took Catherine several moments to digest this new information. "Sara has a ring _on her finger?_ There's got to be some kind of mistake. She's not even dating anyone. She wouldn't just get married. That's insane." She continued, "I still cannot believe you said that you and Sara were married. That is going to be one _hell_ of a conversation when Sara finds out…" Briefly, she wondered to herself if perhaps Grissom's subconscious had played a part in his acceptance of the role of Sara's husband. _No…surely not…?_

Grissom didn't say it out loud, but inwardly he was relieved that someone else agreed with him –Sara couldn't possibly be married. Instead he said, "Sara will be okay with it. I'll just explain to her the situation. It will be fine. She may even find it humorous…" He trailed off because he realized it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than anything else.

Just then they glanced up to see what the commotion was –they could hear loud voices coming from the hallway that led to the Emergency Room. It sounded like it was the team coming back with food and drink. They heard Greg say, "Well believe it. I was right there and that is what he said…" He broke off when he realized that he had re-entered the waiting room and that not only were Grissom and Catherine staring at him, but also so was half the Emergency Room.

As Greg made his way over with the guys, his face was sheepish. "Sorry for the, uh, disturbance…"

Warrick quickly changed the subject by passing a cup of coffee to Grissom and to Catherine. "I can't promise how it will taste but hey at least it is caffeine."

Eager to get Grissom to forget about what he had overhead, Greg said, "For your stomach's pleasure, we have a wide variety of choices. Peanut butter crackers –nutritious and filling. Doritos –cheesy and salty. Lastly, chocolate –sweet and delicious. Take your pick."

"I'm really not hungry. I don't think I can eat," Grissom replied. "Thanks, anyway."

"Come on, Gris. You have to eat something," Catherine asserted as she jabbed the package of crackers at him.

_xxx_

The waiting room had slowly thinned out, but now new faces with new emergencies were waiting to be seen.

An hour ago, a nurse had informed Grissom that they were almost finished running the tests. Grissom tried to be thankful for the update –paltry as it was, but what he really wanted was to be able to see Sara. They wouldn't let him yet, and it was killing him.

The entire team was still there. Brass had joined them about a half an hour ago with news that they were still on the lookout for Sara's vehicle. More bad news –Grissom was getting accustomed to it.

Everyone was trying to remain cheerful and upbeat, but the worry they were all feeling was still unmistakable. _I don't think Sara even realizes how much the team cares about her. _They really weren't just a team. In the nearly six years they had worked together, they had become a family.

Since Nick had gotten there, he had not said much, especially to him. Grissom felt sorry for snapping at him earlier in his office. How could he explain how his heart had clutched in fear at the thought of something happening to Sara? He would have to apologize. He knew Nick loved and treated Sara like another one of his kid sisters. _Now is a good time as any to say he was sorry…_

"Nick, will you come with me to get some more coffee? You can show me where to go. I need to, uh, stretch my legs a bit," Grissom said.

He looked a bit startled but agreed quickly.

The walk to the cafeteria was silent at first.

"Grissom, I'm so incredibly sorry. What's happening to Sara is my fault. You were right. I shouldn't have left her at the scene. I don't know how she will ever be able to forgive me…" Nick said, his voice full of remorse and emotion.

Grissom stopped and turned to face Nick. "Nick, I asked you to walk with me because I needed to apologize to you. I was out of line for blowing up at you in the lab this morning. I'm sorry, and all I can is that I was extremely worried about Sara. It hasn't been that long since you were in a life and death situation. I haven't forgotten that either. I do know that you would never intentionally put Sara in any danger."

Nick was so relieved to hear Grissom say he didn't blame him; however, he knew that it would still take a while for him to forgive himself. "Thank you, Grissom. I really do believe she will be okay. When I think of Sara, I always think of her as one of those people who will always amaze you at what they can come through. She's pretty special."

"Yeah, she is," agreed Grissom so quietly that Nick didn't hear him.

_xxx_

"Mr. Grissom, thank you for your patience." Moments ago, a nurse had told him Dr. Jacobs wished to speak with him and had led him through the double doors again.

The doctor continued, "First, I want to tell you that your wife is strong. An intense will to survive is a wonderful thing to have. Your wife has it; she's not giving up. We have finished running the tests. Sara does not have any intracranial bleeding…"

"Thank God," Grissom thought.

"For the next twenty-four hours, we will need to monitor her for any changes. Another doctor, Dr. Johns, is a neuro-specialist who has been helping me and will continue to follow up with Sara. He's one of the best so your wife is in good hands. Unfortunately, we cannot tell you the full extent of any damage she may have until she wakes up fully. We've given her a strong dose of morphine for the pain so it's likely she will be sleeping for a while."

"I don't want her in any pain so that's okay," Grissom said.

"We are about to move Sara to the ICU, which is located on the eighth floor. I know you have been waiting to see your wife, and I'm sorry it has taken so long. It's been a crazy day in the Emergency Room. You'll be allowed to visit her for fifteen minutes every hour. Two people are allowed in at a time, and I'm sure there are many people anxious to see your wife."

"Yes, that's true," Grissom replied. _Thank God, I'll finally be able to see Sara._

"Give us about thirty minutes, and you will be able to see Sara. You can head up to the ICU now if you would like. Just let them know who you are and that you're waiting to see your wife when she comes in."

_xxx_

"Mr. Grissom, you can see Sara now. Two people at a time for a maximum visit for everyone of fifteen minutes," the older nurse informed them of the ICU rules.

"Can I come in with you, Grissom?" Nick asked. He really wanted to see Sara. Grissom nodded his assent.

"We'll each go in two at a time for five minutes so that everyone has a chance to see Sara. I know everyone has been worried," Grissom said.

Thanks and nods of approval were given by the rest of the team and Brass.

The older nurse led Grissom and Nick through the ICU's doors to Sara's bed and left them alone.

Nick reached out to take Sara's hand and gave her a soft kiss on her cheek. Grissom, privately, wished he could do the same. "I'm so sorry, Sara," Nick apologized.

Grissom took in the sight of Sara. She was hooked up to so many machines. A heart monitor. An O2 sat reader. A blood pressure machine. The IV in Sara's arm was giving her some fluids or some medicine. He wasn't sure which one.

He did know that his heart hurt to see Sara like this. He really didn't know what to say to her. He had so many thoughts and emotions running through him, but he really didn't want an audience for them. Instead, he stepped up to her bed and hesitantly laid his hand over hers for a brief moment. "Sara, we are all here for you. You're going to make it through this. I know it." The words seemed inadequate even to him compared to what he really longed to say.

The five minutes he had allotted to his and Nick's visit came before he realized it. They stepped out and back into the waiting area of the ICU to allow the others a few minutes to see Sara.

Ten minutes later, everyone was back in the waiting area.

"Grissom, I hate to bring this up, but it's almost time for us to leave to head back to work. What are you going to do?" Greg asked.

"I want all of you to go in tonight. Crime never takes a night off as we know. Catherine, you're in charge of handing out the assignments tonight. Brass, I want you to find the guy who did this," Grissom instructed. "I'm going to stay here."

"Grissom, really? I know you're upset about what happened to Sara. We all are, but what can you do here? Sara's sleeping and will more than likely stay that way for a while. Besides, you only have fifteen minutes every hour to see her," Catherine said.

"Catherine, this is my decision. It's something I need to do. I don't want Sara to wake up alone," Grissom replied.

"Okay. We'll head back to the lab. Let us know if there's any change."

_xxx_

It was nearly four in the morning, and he had yet to go to sleep. The team had left hours ago, and while he was thankful for their support and concern, he was kind of relieved that they were gone. With them there (even when it had just been Greg), he felt he had to present a certain image. He felt he needed to remain calm and to keep his emotions in check. Now alone, he didn't have to pretend he was strong and in control. He knew his team expected him to provide leadership and direction. By himself, he could finally let his emotions show.

He was exhausted, but he was determined not to miss a chance to see Sara so he set his watch to beep five minutes before every hour. Catherine had said that it was only fifteen minutes. However, he knew time had never seemed so precious or to pass by as quickly as it did in those minutes.

The first ICU visit without the team, he finally did what he had wanted to do earlier. He kissed her –not on the lips, but on her cheek and on her hand. He wanted Sara to be awake when he kissed her on the lips for the first time_. I hope I get that chance…_

_xxx_

They had moved Sara into a private room. Grissom found that to be a positive sign. It was now Friday at nine p.m.

The team had stopped by the ICU waiting room at various intervals throughout the day. They still hadn't located Sara's missing vehicle, which meant the person responsible for doing this to Sara was still out there, free –a thought he really didn't like or care for.

Everyone, especially Catherine, thought he should go home at least to get a few hours of decent sleep. How could he explain it to them when he wasn't quite sure he understood it himself? But he knew he just couldn't leave Sara. They had even offered to stay while he went home to be there in case Sara woke up, but he had refused. The team finally accepted his decision although they probably thought he was acting a bit irrational. He didn't care.

After making sure he ate something nutritious for dinner, they had left again for another night of work. Then Sara had been moved, and now he was sitting in a truly uncomfortable chair by Sara's beside in her private room.

He was alone with Sara. Completely alone. _Finally._ There were no other ICU patients and their visitors and no nurses checking on the patients around. It was just Sara and him. He finally was able to relax somewhat. There was so much he wanted to say to Sara, but he wanted her to be awake to hear it.

_xxx_

As she awakened for the second time Saturday, Sara half moaned and half yawned out loud. Her room was dim, and she could feel another presence in the room. She looked to her right and saw a man. The bar to her hospital bed was down. The man was holding her hand and his head was resting by her side on her bed…

* * *

A/N2: It's that time again. You review, and I'll send a sneak peek at Ch. 6 (which hopefully will be sent soon but do take in consideration that tomorrow is Thanksgiving and my next day off of work is Tuesday!) Thanks for reading, and Chapter 6 will hopefully explain some things… 


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I'm so happy to post this chapter because finally what my basis of my story (and my initial idea for the story) is going to revolve around comes out! I hope you enjoy the chapter, and thanks for reading!

A/N2: A million thanks goes out to **graciebutterfliedgsr** because she is the best beta in the world. It's the truth; I do not lie.

Disclaimer: How many times must I say this…I do not own CSI.

* * *

It wasn't just any man holding her hand with his head resting on her hospital bed. It was Grissom.

_Grissom. Her supervisor._

As flashbacks of the last couple of days ran through her head, she realized he was more than that as well.

Her first recollection was of waking up, disoriented. She realized she was in the Emergency Room. Nurses and doctors were surrounding her, conversing. She caught brief snatches of their conversation. "A wedding ring…married, need to find her husband…need paperwork to be filled out by him…"

She had awakened again, much later. She was in the I.C.U. of the hospital now. A nurse had been standing by her bedside, checking on her stats. When the nurse realized she was awake, she had informed her that her husband would be able to see her in about thirty minutes when visitation was allowed. She had fallen back asleep before having a chance to ask any questions.

Again in the I.C.U., though she wasn't fully awake, she heard two female nurses chatting by her bedside.

"She is so lucky," the first nurse softly spoke.

"I agree. Her husband has come in every hour to see her. He's so worried. I feel so bad that she hasn't been awake any of the times he has visited."

"It's so sad that we don't always see that kind of devotion…" the first nurse replied as Sara drifted back off asleep.

Lastly, she recalled waking up in the room she was in now. Mary, her nurse, had been talking to her when she said, "Your husband stepped out for a moment…There he is now!" and in walked Grissom.

He wasn't just her supervisor. He was her husband.

"So…we're married," she thought, contentedly. Her mood wasn't dampened until she realized she couldn't quite recall the details. She was beginning to grow concerned when she noticed Grissom moving, thus interrupting her growing unease.

He came to slowly and lifted his head from its current resting place on Sara's hospital bed. _I must have fallen asleep after Mary had left…_

His eyes met Sara's when he raised his head. _She's awake._

"Hi," he said a bit awkwardly. He winced slightly at the pain in his neck. He had a feeling he might have a crick in his neck for a while. _Bad position to fall asleep in._

Belatedly he realized that by lying on her bed, he may have inadvertently woke her up or hurt her. "I'm sorry, Sara. Did I wake you? Did I hurt you somehow by bumping into your bed or something?" he asked. _I really need to stop rambling._

"No, I woke up on my own." She had noticed Grissom's cringe and deduced that from his previous position he fell asleep in that his neck must be in pain. "I would offer to massage your neck for you, but I'm a bit, uh, incapacitated at the moment," she softly joked, as she raised her right hand with the IV in it.

"Sara, don't worry about me," Grissom said. He knew she had to be in pain that was ten times worse than the little bit of pain he had from a stiff neck. Yet, here she was concerned about him. _She really was amazing…_

Now that she was awake, he figured he should start to straighten things out.

"Sara…" _Ok, brilliant start. This really is harder than I thought it would be. How exactly do I go about telling Sara that he had lied and told everyone that they were married? Well…she still had to explain to him that damn ring…_

"Sara," he began again.

"Yes, Grissom?" she asked with a questioning look in her eyes.

"Hello. You're awake I see. That's great," a cheerful voice broke into Grissom's thoughts and into what he was about to reveal to Sara. The nurse, an attractive young lady, walked in with another male in a white coat, presumably the brilliant neuro-specialist.

"It's a pleasure meeting both of you. I'm Grace, and I'll be your nurse this evening. Shift just changed a few minutes ago. This gentleman here is Dr. Johns," she said with a slight British accent.

The man in question strode forward and held his hand out to shake Grissom's. "Hi. It's nice to meet you both. I'm Dr. Johns as Grace said. I'm glad you're awake. I had you down last in my rounds this evening because I heard that you were given some morphine earlier in the afternoon, and I know that stuff can really knock you out. I worked with Dr. Jacobs down in the Emergency Room. He called me in for a consult on your head trauma, and I told him I would continue to follow up with you. I'm just going to need to ask you a few questions if that's alright with you?"

"Ok, sure." She looked a bit nervous so without thinking Grissom reached for her hand to reassure her. He was rewarded with a half-smile from Sara.

"Good. First, what's your date of birth?" Dr. Johns asked.

"September 16, 1971."

"What's your full name?"

"Sara Elizabeth Sidle…" _No, wait I'm married so my last name would be Grissom. _"Sara Sidle-Grissom. I'm married, right?" she hesitantly joked.

The doctor frowned slightly at her hesitation and her word choice. Grissom didn't notice, however, because he was too relieved that Sara hadn't blown his lie. She must remember Mary saying something earlier about being married to him. _Hopefully, that's a good sign that she isn't mad at me for the lie…?_

"Next, where do you work?"

"I'm a crime scene investigator for the Las Vegas Police Department."

"Good, good."

Sara wasn't sure why he was asking all these questions, but she decided there must be a reason. She continued, "I've worked there for almost three years."

Grissom glanced up quickly, startled. _Wait…what?_ His confusion must have been evident because the doctor sent him a questioning look as if to ask him if she was right. He shook his head back at Dr. Johns signaling the negative.

Sara remained oblivious to her mistake.

"Sara, what year is this?" Dr. Johns asked.

"2003," Sara answered after another brief hesitation. _That's right, isn't it?_

After hearing her answer, Grissom's hand that held Sara's reflexively clutched her hand tighter. _What's going on…?_

"Sara, it's actually 2005…" Dr. Johns gently said.

"What? No. No! That cannot be correct. There's no way that is right. That would mean that I couldn't remember two years of my life. Two years!" Sara exclaimed, her voice rising and becoming slowly hysterical. _Oh my God, I really can't remember being married. I can't even remember dating…_

"Sara, honey…" Grissom said, trying to soothe her.

She looked up in horror at Grissom. "I can't remember us dating or getting married! But we're married. I have a ring on my finger. The nurse called you my husband. How can I not remember? What kind of wife am I if I can't remember our wedding anniversary? Oh my God…" Tears were now streaming down Sara's face.

Meanwhile, Dr. Johns had motioned to Grace and told her to bring Sara a sedative.

Grissom looked on helpless. _I need to explain the whole marriage thing…_

"I can't remember. I can't remember my life. Well, I can. Parts of it. The beginning. I do remember coming to Vegas. You asked me to, and I came. I remember cases we worked on. I remember asking you out! After the lab exploded…that's when it was. So you said yes, right? That's when we started dating? How is it possible that I can't remember anything more?" Sara asked. She was starting to hyperventilate. Her blood pressure was skyrocketing to dangerous levels, and her heart was racing while her O2 sats began to drop low.

"Sara. You need to calm down," Dr. Johns instructed.

"Take deep breaths. Come on, honey. Breathe. Sara!" Grissom said, feeling panicked when the alarms on her machines began going off as Grace re-entered Sara's room with a syringe in her hand.

"Sara, we're going to give you a sedative. Okay? You need to calm down otherwise you will do yourself harm," Dr. Johns stated as he gave his nod of consent for Grace to give Sara the sedative. "You're going to feel the effects of it very soon, and you'll be out for a while," he warned even as Sara's eyes began to close.

"Dr. Johns, excuse me, I was just going to let you know that I need to check on some other patients. If you need anything else, then please just page the nurses' station. That goes for you as well, Mr. Grissom," Grace said.

"Thank you, Grace. I'll let you know if we need anything else," he said in return.

Grissom noticed Sara had fallen asleep again so he motioned to Dr. Johns to step toward the opposite end of the hospital room so as to not disturb Sara.

The neuro-specialist continued, "When we ran the tests earlier, it was difficult to know anything definite in regards to what the blow to Sara's head would lead to, and I felt that it was best to wait until she was more fully awake to further question her. In the case of a severe head trauma, many possible scenarios do exist. I did suspect that there might be some cause for some concern when I looked at Sara's MRI…"

"What exactly did you suspect?" Grissom was sure he knew what was coming but wanted to hear it from the doctor's mouth first.

"It appears that Sara has amnesia."

Hearing it from the doctor did not make Grissom feel any better.

"The most common cause of amnesia is due to a traumatic brain injury. It occurs when the limbic system, which is responsible for retrieving stored memories, is compromised. From questioning Sara, I suspect that she has retrograde amnesia, which often occurs after a head injury. Basically, it is the loss of memories of events that occurred before the onset of amnesia, i.e. the head trauma. People suffering from retrograde amnesia do not lose all their memories, and this is why Sara can recall details like her date of birth and moving to Las Vegas. Usually, memory loss is worst for events just before the injury."

"So she does remember some of her past," Grissom stated. He wanted to make sure he understood everything the doctor was telling him.

"Yes. Some people cannot recall a few weeks before their injury while others cannot recall months and years before their injury. In Sara's case, her memory seems to fade around 2003. An example I can give you to help you understand is say that a man developed retrograde amnesia in his middle age. He will most likely have an excellent memory of his childhood, a nearly complete memory of young adulthood, and progressively less memory for the years leading up to his brain injury."

"So her memory tapers off about 2003?"

"It seems that is the case. Her memories of before then may even be a bit spotty, and she might not recall things that happened exactly right. She might remember parts of a memory, and her brain might fill in the rest…"

"The real question is will her memories come back?" Grissom asked, praying for a positive answer.

"When the brain is damaged, brain cells are lost. Due to the complex network connecting cells within the human brain, they cannot be replaced. That is why head traumas often cause confusion. I wish I could tell you with certainty that Sara's memory will come back. Some patients fully recover their memories while others lose some memories for good. It is hard to say at this point so that is why I would like to continue treating Sara as an outpatient when she goes home. It may take her a few days to remember, a few weeks, or possibly longer."

"I can't believe this is happening…" Grissom didn't realize he had spoken out loud until the doctor responded.

"I know this is not the news you wanted to hear. I'm truly sorry." Dr. Johns continued, "Sara is likely going to have a hard time coping with her memory loss. She may experience headaches or migraines. Fatigue and balance problems are common. She may even find it difficult to concentrate or pay attention for periods of time and may find herself unable to do more than one thing at a time. This is in addition to all the physical trauma she has to her body, the broken ribs and the bruises."

_Oh, God…_

"I am concerned about Sara's well-being. She really needs to remain calm. Losing your memory is definitely not an easy thing to go through, but she does not need to get worked up like she did earlier. It will not be good for her recovery. I am glad that she's married because it will mean she is not going to be alone. Personally, it is always worrisome for me when an amnesiac patient has no one there for them because the adjustment to day-to-day life again can be difficult. It's good to know that she will have someone there for her. I can see already that you are, as the nurses have been saying in the halls, a very devoted husband. Her blood pressure is quite high so we need for her to not have any additional stress in her life."

_I really can't keep lying to the doctor._ Grissom was about to tell the doctor the truth that he and Sara weren't really married, but the doctor's pager decided to go off in that moment.

The neuro-specialist took a quick glance at the number and said, "Sorry. There's an emergency down in the E.R. I have to go now." As he hurried off down the hallway, he called out, "Have a good night."

* * *

A/N3: Grace assured me nothing was canon with Sara's middle name. Secondly, Grissom being called devoted twice is a shout out to **wander52** for her review of my last chapter. Lastly, I did a lot of research on amnesia. A LOT. However, I'm not a doctor so forgive any mistakes. And for the part about "she might remember parts of a memory, and her brain might fill in the rest" I'm not quite sure if that's true but I decided to go with it anyway. A lot of the technical stuff came from various medical websites; however, I can't recall every site I visited so I'm just going to say that I don't own the medical jargon as well.

A/N4: Finally, I told a few of you in my response back to your reviews that Chapter 6 was getting long, and I wasn't going to be able to write in everything I had wanted so what I hadn't written would become Chapter 7. However, Chapter 6 really got out of hand, and I have decided (and my beta approved) of splitting the chapter yet again. This is good news because you get an update earlier than planned and also for those who review you will get back a quick response of a sneak peek at Ch. 7 (which is Grissom-focused)! So go do your thing! Thanks!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: First, I want to take a moment to thank everyone who has reviewed. Seriously, I'm so amazed by all the kind words. A special shout out to **ishotsherlock** for being my 100th review! Also to those who haven't reviewed but are reading my story I want to say thanks to you as well. I hope you keep enjoying the ride!

A/N2: Major props goes out to my fabulous beta, **graciebutterfliedgsr**. All mistakes remaining are mine.

A/N3: If you're thrilled the chapter is being posted earlier than expected, then thank **jenstog**. She's insane, very bossy, and my new GSR BFF. She demanded I post if I knew what was good for me. She also just posted a new story so you should check it out because it is pretty awesome.

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own CSI. Yes, I'm still depressed about it. I also do not own the Emerson (my fav!) quote or the "sayings/clichés" I have used.

* * *

Grissom made his way back to Sara's bedside in a daze. _This really cannot be happening. Right? _This was the kind of stuff that TV movies and novels were made of. The doctor had said Sara had amnesia, and it was beyond clear by Sara's answers to the doctor's questions that her memory was not undamaged. _What was he going to do?_

Sitting back down again in the chair that was still by Sara's bed, his mind began to wander back to about six months ago. It had been February.

It was the Russian mail order bride case. That case had changed everything. It really wasn't so much the case as what it had resulted in. Sara had been insubordinate to Catherine, according to Ecklie, and Ecklie had suspended her for a week. He had gone to Sara's apartment to see if she was okay. That day she had told him about her childhood. He could still bring to his mind the look of vulnerability on Sara's face as she told him, calmly and dispassionately, that her mother had killed her father. She had only been twelve years old. He sat there and listened to her although inside his heart was breaking for the little girl Sara had been and for what she had gone through. However, he didn't let any sympathy or pity show because he knew that Sara wouldn't have wanted nor welcomed them. Instead, he had laid a hand on her arm. He meant the gesture to be for comfort –to show her that she wasn't alone. It was that day Sara Sidle had cried. In front of him. She had broken down and cried gut-wrenching sobs that wracked through her slender frame. She had trusted him with her deepest, darkest secret. That day had changed something inside of him forever.

Since he had first met Sara, he had thought she was beautiful. She really was, even if she didn't realize it. Despite this, however, it was her brains, her ever curious and questioning mind, that was the main attraction for him. They had met when he was in San Francisco. He was a guest lecturer at a forensics conference, and she was there. After giving his speech, he had opened the floor to his requisite question and answer session. Hands were raised and questions were shouted from all over the auditorium except from where Sara sat. She remained silent. While the remaining stragglers left, he gathered his papers at the podium and was surprised when Sara came up to him. With a small smile and a slight hesitation, she had informed him that she hadn't asked any questions because she had so many that she didn't know quite where to start and had not wanted to dominate the entire session. He began answering some of her questions and realized that she was incredibly bright. In the end, he had extended an invitation to her for dinner, which was something highly unusual and out of character for him. He reasoned with himself at the time that it was late, they had to eat, and it would be rude not to answer all of her questions. Dinner had turned out to be great, but the conversation was the true highlight of the evening. His dinner companion was also a pleasure to be with and to look at. Nothing, however, happened that night. He had taken her back home and left. It was still something he wasn't sure if he regretted or was thankful for.

He didn't see Sara again until he called and invited her to Las Vegas to investigate the murder of Holly Gribbs although they had kept in touch with each other by email. When he saw her smile again, it was like everything was all right in his world once more. He wasn't sure if he wanted or expected anything to happen between Sara and him when she showed up in Vegas or not, but things quickly became different and much more complicated. No longer were they just two people who were interested in each other (and possibly in a relationship). They were now coworkers. And not just coworkers –he was her supervisor. If anything ever was forbidden or taboo, then it was that. There was a tacit acknowledgment that a supervisor/subordinate relationship was strictly against the rules and regulations of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. He had seen their possible budding relationship become a flickering flame until it became extinguished due to everything against it. Exploring their feelings for each other was something left best undone. Friendship would be all that could ever happen between them. He could live with that, or so he tried to convince himself he could.

Throughout the years, Sara had tried to bring up something between the two of them. He knew he couldn't. There were rules, after all. He knew she thought she was in like -he couldn't bring himself to say love because that would be completely crazy, right? He knew, he convinced himself, that Sara would change her mind. She was beautiful, vibrant, and full of possibilities. On the other hand, he was the complete opposite. He wasn't being modest when he acknowledged that he wasn't particularly ugly or anything. He had had offers over the years of invitations for after dinner nightcaps with something more implied in the past, but he had rarely accepted. Still he wasn't fooling himself. He was fifteen years her senior. If he had decided to buck the rules and had gone after Sara (like his heart had wanted but his mind had refused to let him do), then maybe they would have dated for a while. It would have been great, he knew. However, it would have been unwise of him to think that it would have lasted. Sara would eventually leave him. She would wake up one day and ask herself why she had tied herself to some middle-aged man who worked way too much and whose idea of fun was to play with bugs. Yes, she would wake up and "smell the coffee" and realize that there were many other fish in the proverbial sea. And it would devastate him. He could and would admit that to himself now. Maybe subconsciously all along it had been his fear of Sara leaving him and not the whole work excuse (I'm her supervisor/she's my subordinate) thing that had prevented him from doing something about Sara. Maybe all along it had just been him trying to protect himself and his heart from getting hurt.

After Sara had told him about her childhood, he realized though that he had been wrong to deny himself a relationship with Sara. He really wanted to try something with her –a first for him. He began to consider the possibility of starting something with Sara. He was still hesitant and a bit unsure. After all, there was that saying "You can't teach an old dog new tricks" for a reason. Emerson, though, had said, "Always do what you are afraid to do." It was truly a great philosophy to live by because he realized that oftentimes some of the things that are the scariest and hardest to do can end up leading you to some of the best things life has to offer.

Not even a full three months later, there had been the Adam Trent case. He had assigned Sara with him on the case for the sheer reason that he had just wanted to spend some time with her even if it was just on a case, working. The dead body was at a mental hospital. It had been an intense case, and one that he wouldn't forget because of what had almost happened to Sara. They had been at the nurse's station, and he couldn't find a key to unlock some drawers. He had left her there with the door wide open, without thinking. That was when Adam Trent had attacked Sara. Trent had gone in, unnoticed by Sara, and closed and locked the door. He had dragged her down to the floor and held a pointed piece of hardened clay against her throat. When he came back with an orderly that is the image he saw. Sara struggling, and Trent holding her hostage. He had stood there –outside the door, helpless. He had stared into Sara's brown eyes, and he didn't know if he had ever been more terrified in his entire life. She had got away, and he was forever thankful. It was that night that he really truly began to understand and realize how much Sara meant to him. He cared for all the members of his team –Catherine, Warrick, Nick, and Greg. But Sara wasn't just another member of his team; his feelings for her went beyond that. Still he didn't make a move on Sara. He was still holding himself back. Admitting to himself that he, a man of intellect and forty-seven years of age, was too scared to ask a pretty girl out made him feel a bit like he was still in grade school. Unfortunately, it was entirely true.

A few weeks later, Nick had been kidnapped and buried alive. Something else he wasn't likely to forget anytime soon or ever. The team had found him in time, and that was the important thing. But all of the events from the past three months were piling up on him: Sara telling him about her past, Sara being attacked by Trent, Nick being buried alive. All of it was just too much. And all of it was like a divine wake-up call to act –to do something about Sara. To try.

So he made the decision that he would ask Sara out for a date. Just the two of them. Nick being buried alive only confirmed what he had already decided after Sara had been attacked at the mental hospital. Screw the rules and regulations. Sara Sidle was worth it.

It had been three months since his decision, and he had yet to act. His only excuse (as flimsy as it was) was that he wasn't quite sure how to approach Sara. How could he undo all the pain and hurt he had caused her over the years by always rejecting her advance for something more than just friendship? Would she even be willing to try anymore? He wasn't sure of himself at all, and for a man who prided himself on knowing things and always knowing what to do it was a bit disconcerting to say the least. He had never been a ladies man or a player (or whatever you called it these days) so he wasn't sure how to go about things. The only thing he did know was that he wanted Sara. He wanted a relationship with her. He was willing to take the chance and see where it took him. He was throwing caution to the wind. However, the most he had managed to do in the three months since was to compliment Sara on her work more often. And he had poured her some coffee on a few occasions in the break room and brought her dinner a couple of times. Another smooth move he realized when she seemed more startled and confused than anything else by his gestures.

That brought him back to today. Saturday. At the hospital, sitting in the much-loathed green chair by Sara's bedside –still reeling from the news that Sara had amnesia.

* * *

A/N4: Last chapter I was excited to post because my story concept finally came out, but this chapter is pretty special to me. I really enjoyed writing it. I love this chapter because it's just all about Grissom (his thoughts/his feelings). To me nesting dolls, committed, and grave danger were pivotal moments for the GSR relationship, and I wanted to show how it all kind of piled up on Grissom to give him a swift kick in the behind… Although I swear the man is moving slower than a freaking snail –and I'm the one writing him, but no he refuses to move faster! Insert: me _mentally_ picking up the pencil ready to push/shove/kick him along...

A/N5: I'll shut up now so you can go do your thing and I'll send you a sneak peek (asap) as a thank you present.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I wanted to open this chapter with another thank you to everyone who has reviewed. Thank you for reading! Hopefully, you will continue to enjoy what I have in store and will like the direction the story is taking.

A/N2: I would also like to thank my very lovely beta, **graciebutterfliedgsr**, for her continued help and support! All mistakes remaining are mine.

A/N3: This is where I start to shamelessly self-promote. If you don't like it, then please skip over the next few lines! Newest update: I'm collaborating with the amazing **JenStog**! We're working on a Christmastime geeklove fic. I really hope you go check it out and drop us a line about what you think! We're known as **SouthernHospitality07**. Thanks ahead of time!

Disclaimer: CSI & all its characters do not belong to me. I, however, take extreme pleasure from borrowing them for a little while…

* * *

Sara has amnesia. Retrograde amnesia to be exact, meaning she remembers only so much of her past.

She believes he had said yes to her invitation to dinner after the lab exploded. He had said no, and she had countered with a let's just see what happens. He had replied honestly by saying that he didn't know what to do. For a few tense moments, they had stared at each other until she had broken the silence by telling him that by the time he figured it out, he really could be too late.

_Too late. God, I really hoped it wasn't._

He was still surprised by the turn of events. She thinks we're married. The doctor thinks we're married. The nurses thought he was the world's most devoted husband for God's sakes. They were ready to hand him a freaking award.

He had tried to tell the truth. Hadn't he?

Dr. Johns had said it was great that she was married. She didn't need to be alone. Amnesiacs have a hard time dealing with everything and adjusting. In addition, her well being was in jeopardy. She had completely lost it earlier. Not that he could blame her (or anyone else could). Losing a couple years of your life –hell losing a week of your life –had to be frightening.

She thinks that they were married. Married as in husband and wife. A house. A white picket fence. A dog. As in living together.

_No…no. He wasn't considering that._

_Was he?_

The doctor had said she didn't need anymore stress in her life. Her blood pressure was too high. She needed calm. She needed someone to look after her and take care of her. She needed some tender, love, and care. She had suffered a major blow to her head, which had resulted in her amnesia. She had broken ribs and bruises all over her body. She lived alone. He really didn't see the Ms. Independent Sara Sidle asking for any help.

_He really couldn't._

_Could he?_

She probably wouldn't be able to cook for herself at all. It required a lot of physical movement and exertion. Takeout could and would get old quickly. She would need her nourishment to help her get better and stronger. She might not even be able to drive for a while either. She would be on a lot of medicine all of which will make her drowsy and unable to operate a vehicle.

Plus seriously who knew what she will have to deal with as side effects from her head trauma and her attack. She might have some balance problems. What if she fell and hurt herself and was unable to get to the phone to call for help? Dr. Johns said she might even have trouble keeping her concentration at times. What if she plugged in an iron, forgot to unplug it, and started a fire? And what if she had taken her medicine and it had made her sleepy and she didn't hear the smoke alarm… God, his imagination was running rampant. He really needed to get some decent sleep.

_Seriously, the idea was still completely insane._

_Wasn't it?_

However, hadn't he made a decision three months ago to do something about Sara? To ask her on a date? He needed to make his move. Saying they were married though was a large leap from asking her out.

Despite that, maybe he should go along with the marriage thing. Sara would obviously need help when she was released from the hospital. He really couldn't see her accepting help even from her friends. He would be worried and concerned about her. If she believed that they were married, then he would be free to take care of her. Hell, it would be expected. That would be good, right?

He would be able to spend time with her. A good thing, he thought. They could get to know each other from outside the confines of work. Maybe this is how something could start between the two of them. He knew he wanted a relationship with her. She liked him. She had pursued him. His doubts about Sara's feelings began to fall away as he began to see the possibilities.

He had no doubt her memory would return. He refused to consider any other alternative. Until then, Sara needed someone. That someone was going to be him. He was finally stepping up to the plate. He was taking a leap of faith and praying that it was the right choice.

_He was really going to do it. _

_He was going to pretend to be Sara's husband._

And he was going to keep things platonic. Completely platonic. Maybe a peck on the cheek but that was it. The line was drawn there. Until Sara's memory returned fully (and that would be soon –probably by the end of the week he told himself), he was not going to take advantage of his position as her husband. He wasn't and that was final.

Later, he would wonder why did he feel the need to tempt the fates?

_xxx_

It was six in the morning on Sunday. Sara was still asleep. She had woken up a few times during the night in pain, and he had comforted her as best he could as he waited for the night nurse to bring her some morphine.

He was still sitting in the horrid green chair. He really needed to ask the nurse for a pillow for some extra cushioning or something -he didn't have that much extra padding in his backside.

The nurse though had given him the morning's paper on her last round of checking on Sara so he decided to engage his mind and answer the Sunday's crossword puzzle.

Two down, four letters –soft mineral.

_Talc._

11 across, five letters –secret meeting.

_Tryst._

29 down, four letters –Yucatan native.

_Maya._

40 across, five letters –desert flora.

Grissom carefully wrote in the answer, c-a-c-t-i. _Flora. Flowers. That's what was needed. _He looked around Sara's room –it was your typical hospital room, not much to look at definitely. He needed to order her some flowers to brighten up her room. _Isn't that what a husband would do for his wife, who was in the hospital? Hmm…now the hard part was what kind? _Something cheery, obviously, but he wanted the flowers to have some meaning to them as well.

Mentally going through what he knew about flowers and their meanings, admittedly he didn't know a great deal, he decided on ordering a mixed bouquet of yellow tulips and blue irises. He thought they would be perfect. First, yellow tulips meant there is sunshine in your smile. That was perfect for Sara. Her smile could make him feel like everything was going to be all right even at the toughest of life's moments. And irises were known to mean faith and hope. He had faith that Sara's memory would return, and he had hope that they could start something special together.

Feeling quite proud of himself, he quickly dialed information for the nearest flower shop and ordered the bouquet of flowers to be delivered as soon as possible.

_xxx_

The flowers had been delivered about an hour ago. Grissom thought that they were perfect. The yellow and blue mixture of flowers was both lovely and cheerful. _I hope Sara likes them._

Hearing the clanging of the meal cart, Grissom realized that it must be lunchtime. _Maybe Sara will wake up again. She needs to eat something…_

A hospital employee knocked on the door and opened it, carrying a tray laden with Sara's lunch for the day. "Here you go, sir. Have a good day," the young woman told him.

He replied his thanks and set the tray on Sara's rolling bedside tray. He took the cover off of Sara's plate to see what the meal of the day was. A grilled cheese sandwich along with what appeared to be tomato soup and a package of oyster crackers. Water and juice were provided as the beverage choices. Not too bad, he guessed. It could have been worse.

While Grissom debated the pros and cons of waking up Sara, she slowly began to come to –probably because the smell of food woke her up.

"Hi, honey. Are you hungry?" Grissom asked.

"Um, yeah…maybe. I don't know," Sara said as she yawned and rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes. "What did they bring me?"

He told her as he rolled the tray to her bed. "You should try to eat what you can," he said.

"Well, I'll try. I don't think I can eat much though. Why don't you eat half of my sandwich? Have you even eaten, Grissom?" she asked worried.

"Don't worry about me. It's you that I'm concerned about."

"Please? Eat half of it?" Sara asked of him.

He could not refuse her. So he took half of her sandwich and began to eat it all the while keeping a watchful eye on her to make sure she was eating as well. The nurse came in to check on Sara while they were having their lunch and gave her some more pain medicine.

"So I've been wondering…" Sara began when the nurse left.

_She's going to ask about us… about when we got married. Oh God…I hope I don't screw this up._

"Yes?" he asked.

"How long have I been here?" she finally asked.

_Wow. Didn't see that coming. Ok…that's good. It gives me some time to figure the other things out._

"I brought you in here Thursday morning," Grissom told her.

"I can't remember anything at all. What exactly happened?" she asked.

"After you fell asleep from the sedative they gave you, Dr. Johns told me due to the blow to your head you are suffering from what's known as retrograde amnesia so that means your memory from the time of your accident to –in your case it seems –about two years ago you are going to have trouble remembering. But don't worry, honey. Your memory will come back to you," Grissom assured her, praying that God would not make a liar out of him.

He continued, "I don't know all the details on what happened, but I had sent you and Nick out Wednesday night to investigate a double murder. Nick got in his car assuming you were following him. When he got back to the lab, he waited for you but he became nervous when you still weren't back twenty minutes later." Grissom didn't add that he had found her unconscious. And he also didn't add that he had been so scared that she wouldn't make it during the ride to the hospital.

Sara slowly took in the information Grissom was telling her. It seemed surreal that all of this was happening to her. She still didn't remember getting married to Grissom or for that matter dating Grissom. Shaking off her feeling of sadness that she couldn't remember her wedding day, she decided she would take a page from Grissom's book and think positive. She_ would _remember.

As she finished her last bite of her half of the sandwich, her attention was caught by something blue and yellow. _Oh my. He didn't, did he? _The hopelessly romantic part in her –something that she kept deeply hidden – sighed at Grissom's gift.

"You bought me flowers," Sara stated softly. Unbeknownst to her, her eyes were filled with both shock and wonderment.

"I thought your room needed a little help in the cheerful department," he said. "Besides, I wanted to buy you some flowers. Beautiful flowers for an equally beautiful woman," he said tenderly.

"Yeah, I'm sure I look like a million bucks," Sara joked.

"You look beautiful to me," Grissom said. And when Sara looked into his eyes, she found that she believed him.

Yawning, Sara apologized to him and told him that she was sorry but she couldn't stay awake, and she promptly fell asleep again.

_xxx_

Grissom had been pacing Sara's room for the past ten minutes -his legs needed some exercise. It was about six thirty Sunday evening.

He still did not like to be far from Sara's side. The wash of protectiveness toward Sara that fell over him was new to him, but he realized he liked it. As far as he would dare to venture was to go get coffee from the kitchenette on the floor, and it was only three doors down the hallway.

_Hmmm…coffee. I could use some coffee. And some food actually…_

He decided to go get some coffee and something out of the vending machine again, although his stomach wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea. You do what you had to do in certain circumstances.

As soon as he finished checking to make sure Sara was asleep, he made his way down the hallway. He recognized a few faces from his previous trips to the kitchen and exchanged short pleasantries with those he knew.

After purchasing some pretzels and filling up a Styrofoam cup with coffee, he made his way to leave. Coming out from the kitchen area, he thought he heard some familiar voices drawing near.

_The team's here. Oh crap! The team is here. I need to explain some things to them before they enter Sara's room…_

_xxx_

Warrick spotted him first as he headed down the hall towards them. "Hey Grissom," Warrick greeted him followed by the others doing the same.

Everyone was there. Catherine, Warrick, Nick, and Greg. And it looked like they came bearing gifts for Sara. There were vases of flowers -thank God he had already thought of that, balloons, and something in a brown paper sack that smelled heavenly.

"We brought food and gifts. I bought this balloon myself for Sara. I hope she likes it," Greg said pointing to the balloon that was at least three and a half feet tall.

"Yeah, it's definitely something you would buy, Greg." Grissom continued, "Sara is asleep at the moment."

"We were hoping to be able to catch her awake around dinnertime. We brought Sara some of her favorite vegetarian fare. Hospital food is severely lacking," Nick said, knowing first hand.

"Depending on how long you guys can stay, she'll probably wake up sometime soon. She's been in and out of it all day," Grissom informed the team.

Catherine didn't quite understand why they were still standing in the hallway outside of Sara's hospital room. "Gris, can we go in? You can let us know how Sara's doing. When I called the nurses' station earlier for an update, she wouldn't give me much except to say that Sara had woken up again, which is great. So, um, by the way how did that conversation go?" Catherine asked. _God, she wished she could have been a fly on that hospital wall…_

"What conversation?" Grissom asked –too tired mentally to know which conversation she was referring to.

"The conversation with Sara about that little lie you told about being her husband…" Catherine reminded him.

The rest of the team looked equally curious to find out what had gone down with Sara and him. _Oh, boy…_

"Before we go into Sara's room, I need to tell everyone something…" Grissom began, keeping his voice low. "Due to the head trauma, Sara is experiencing retrograde amnesia."

"Sara has amnesia?! What do you mean by retrograde?" Catherine asked.

Grissom filled the team in on what retrograde amnesia was and how Sara's memory became fuzzy around 2003.

"Oh man," Nick groaned.

"Damn," Warrick muttered out loud.

_So here comes the tough part. How to put it delicately to the team that he was going to continue to pretend to be Sara's husband? They were going to think he had gone crazy._

"When Sara woke up, the doctor questioned her, and it became clear that she thought that we were," Grissom paused briefly and finished quickly, "really married."

Greg joked, "Don't tell me you let her continue to believe that?" He laughed because the idea was so ludicrous, but he quickly stopped in mid-laugh when he saw his supervisor's face. Grissom seemed to be a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden.

"Oh, shit…he did. Wow," Greg thought. The rest of the group seemed equally astounded.

Grissom wasn't quite sure how to continue, but he knew he needed to get their promise to go along with the charade for the time being. "Like I was saying, Sara thinks we're married. The doctor and nurses think that…"

"Um, really, Gil? Maybe it has something to do with you starting the whole thing by saying that you were Sara's husband from the beginning," Catherine said.

"Yes, Catherine. I realize that," he said a bit exasperated. "I made a choice. It was done quickly and without much thought. I just wanted to be kept up to date on Sara's condition. Can you blame me? I didn't think this would happen, and it would turn into this. How was I supposed to know that Sara would have amnesia, remember hearing a nurse call me her husband, and believe it?"

"Well you do know that's when the truth becomes handy…" Catherine said.

_They were slowly giving him a headache._ "If everyone would let me finish without all the interruptions, then I would tell you I tried to tell Sara the truth but then the doctor came in and concluded that she had amnesia. She completely lost it and began hyperventilating. Her alarms were going off on all her machines. It was bad, and they had to give her a sedative to calm her down," Grissom said.

"Man," Warrick said.

"She's okay now, isn't she?" Nick asked, still worried.

"The sedative knocked her out completely. The thing is I was trying to tell the doctor the truth when he told me how great it was that Sara was married and how concerned he was about her health. Her blood pressure is really high, and she does not need any additional stress in her life."

"You're really not serious, are you?" Greg asked.

"Sara's going to need some help. The doctor said that amnesiacs have a difficult time when they go home. In addition, she'll be experiencing side effects from her accident. Dr. Johns mentioned she might have trouble concentrating for periods of time. What if she lit a candle and forgot to blow it out and her apartment catches on fire…"

"That's a big what if, Gil," Catherine said.

"Maybe it is. But we all know Sara. She's not going to accept help from anyone. She thinks we're married so why not use the advantage? She's been assaulted. She's alone and vulnerable right now. She just learned she lost two years of her life. The doctor doesn't think she'll be able to handle anymore stress in her life and, as wrong as it might be, I think learning we're not married might be more than she can take. I don't want to add to the confusion she is in."

"Grissom, _seriously_. Think about this. Don't you think it's kind of crazy?" Catherine asked.

_Yeah, they thought he was nuts._ "More than likely, Sara's memory will return by the end of the week. It will all work out, but what I need to know is will all of you go along with the story?"

The CSIs all looked at one another, clearly still a bit in shock with everything that they had learned.

"Can I talk to you alone for a second?" Without waiting for an answer, Catherine dragged Grissom a few feet away. "Gil," slapping him half-heartedly on the arm, she continued, "Are you _insane_? First you want to go along with the charade and then you expect all of us to go along with it as well?"

"First of all, no I'm not insane. I explained everything," Grissom replied.

"Yeah you did, but being Sara's husband -why?" Catherine asked.

_Damn Catherine and her persistence._ Taking a deep breath, he softly said, "Catherine, I care for Sara."

_God, was this man intentionally being this obtuse?_ "Yeah, I know you care about Sara. You care about all of us."

"No, I care for Sara," he repeated.

Catherine looked into his eyes as he repeated the words. _Damn he does. He's admitting it finally. About time, I'd say._

"Okay, okay. You care for Sara. I'm glad you're finally taking your head out of the microscope." _Took you long enough._ She continued, "So this is how you want to play it?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll go along with it, but I still have a bad feeling about this. Let's go tell the boys that Sara just became Mrs. Gil Grissom."

Before Catherine headed back toward the rest of the team, Grissom laid a hand on her arm and quietly said, "Thank you, Catherine. Very much."

She nodded and said, "If things go wrong, then don't say I didn't try to warn you."

When Grissom and Catherine reached the team, Catherine did what she did best –took charge. "Okay guys. We're going to respect Grissom's decision, and how he wants to deal with things. So let's all promise to keep this charade up until Sara's memory returns."

The guys looked at each other. They were still unsure but none wanted to defy Catherine and feel her wrath.

"If that's what you want Grissom?" Nick asked.

"It is," he said.

"Okay. I'm in," Nick replied.

"Me too," Warrick said.

"Well, I can't be the odd man out…yeah, I'll do it," Greg added.

"Thank you. I _really _mean it. I don't want Sara caused any more pain than she has already suffered," Grissom said.

"Grissom, is that you?" Sara's voice, hesitantly called out from her partially closed door.

"She's awake," Nick said.

"Okay, let's go play Grissom and Sara are married," Greg quipped.

* * *

A/N4: This was not where I was going to end it originally but the chapter was getting way too long once again so I split my idea into two. This is a good thing because I know where I want to start Ch. 9 (as well as Ch. 10)! If you don't review, then I won't know you're reading and won't be able to send you a sneak peek… So go do your thing (i.e. review) and I'll do mine (by sending you a sneak peek).


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I want to thank Grace (**graciebutterfliedgsr**) first and foremost because I had a slight "freak out" with this chapter and my general future story line (i.e. slight as in I sent her over 1,800 word email/document). Anyway, she is freaking amazing and a fabulous friend and beta to have! Thanks so much, Grace!

A/N2: Sorry for not updating any sooner :-( Work is insane. Plus, I'm trying to split my attention between this story and my Christmas collaboration (check it out if you haven't please –it's called "I Smell Sex and Candy Canes") It's a bit weird to switch back and forth between romance/humor and romance/drama. Anyway, as always, thanks for reading!

* * *

The team decided to let Grissom go in first and gave him a few minutes alone with Sara.

"Hi, honey. You're awake. How are you feeling?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm okay. Just tired." She didn't want to mention that she was hurting because he would call the nurse, who would give her more morphine. She wasn't a big fan of pain, but the morphine would knock her out again. She wanted to be able to stay awake awhile and enjoy talking with Grissom. _Her husband!_ She still couldn't believe she was lucky enough to be married to him. "Did I hear other voices out there, too?" she asked.

"Yes, the team came by to visit you. They heard you had woken-up today and really wanted to see you. They even picked you up some of your favorite vegetarian fare. Do you think you're up to the company though?" he asked. He didn't want her to tire herself out.

"Yeah. It's fine. Tell them they can come in. It's okay."

Grissom went to the door to open it and said, "Come on in." The team entered the room a bit cautiously.

Greg was the first to say something. "Hey, Sara. I'm glad to see you're awake. We've brought you some stuff to brighten your room. I bought this Tasmanian devil balloon myself for you. I thought it might make you think of me…"

"Thanks, Greg." _Okay, this was a bit weird._ She remembered everyone. _Thank God._ However, she had a gap of two years or so missing in her life. It was strange to know that the team knew stuff about her that she didn't even know about herself.

Nick came over and bent to give her a slight, awkward hug since he was trying not to hurt her. He was still feeling guilty and blaming himself for leaving Sara at the scene, especially when he saw her bruised body lying in the hospital bed.

"Hi, Nick," she said. Sara could tell he wasn't his usual self and assumed that he might be feeling some responsibility for what had happened to her.

"Nick," she spoke softly to him, "Grissom told me that we had been working together at the scene where I was attacked. I can't remember what happened, but I do know that you would never have put me in danger intentionally. Please, don't think I blame you."

Nick tried to choke back the emotions he was feeling. "Sara, thank you. You are amazing. If you need anything, then you know I will be here for you. Always."

Meanwhile, Grissom had started to take out the food and pulled the rolling bed tray to Sara's bedside for her to begin eating.

"Hey, what would you two like to drink? I can go buy you something at the vending machine down the hall," Warrick offered.

After receiving their drink order, Warrick disappeared and returned a few minutes later with their beverages.

"Thank you for thinking of bringing me food. That's really nice of all of you. Really," Sara said. _This was nice –having people who cared for her._ The food smelled wonderful, and her stomach grumbled accordingly.

A nurse had noticed the team enter Sara's room, and when Warrick went to get the drinks, she told him he could borrow a couple of chairs from the break room as long he put them back. So Nick went back out with him, and they managed to bring back three. They still needed one more, but Sara noticed the dilemma and offered Grissom the bottom of her bed to sit. He hesitated a moment –not wanting to hurt her, but in the end, he sat down carefully.

While Sara and Grissom ate, the team filled them in on what had been happening.

"We found the man who attacked you, Sara. He was trying to sell your car for more drug money," Catherine gently told her.

"Thank God he's been caught" Grissom thought.

"Warrick and I brought him in for questioning with Brass. Let's just say he might have accidentally slipped and fallen –a couple of times," Nick said.

"He's going to be in jail for a long while now. We found drugs on him, and he's being charged for possession, in addition to his charges for robbery, stealing your vehicle, assaulting a member of the police force…he won't be seeing the sunshine anytime soon," Warrick added.

Sara was truly enjoying the team's visit, but she was having a hard time hiding the pain that she was in. Grissom caught her pained expression when it became too much for her to bear.

"Sara," Grissom exclaimed as he jumped up from her bed. "Are you hurting?"

"Um, yeah…I have kind of been hurting," Sara told him, guiltily. Before he could scold her, she continued, "I didn't want to be given more morphine and fall back asleep on you…I just wanted to spend some time with you awake."

"Sara, honey. Don't worry about sleeping so much; sleep is good for you. We'll always be able to talk later. I'm going to call the nurse, okay?"

The team looked on, taking in the exchange between Sara and Grissom. Collectively, they were all a bit amazed how well Grissom was stepping into his pretend role of Sara's husband.

She finally nodded her acquiescence, reluctantly. The nurse came and gave her another dose of morphine and left again. The team offered to leave, but she asked them to stay until she fell asleep at least.

They all said they would and promised that they would return to visit her tomorrow and bring her some dinner again before shift.

Fifteen minutes later, Sara was asleep, and the team started to pack up and leave.

As they made their way to leave, Grissom stopped them and quietly said, "Thanks –just thanks." The team all understood he was referring to more than just their offer to return the next day to visit and bring food.

_xxx_

Monday morning came bright and early. Sara got a halfway decent night's rest –as much as a person can possibly get in a hospital he thought with the nurse coming in to check her stats every few hours during the night. At least she had only woken-up once because she was in so much pain that she needed some medicine. _That was good._

Breakfast had already come and gone. Toast, eggs, oatmeal along with some orange juice to drink was served. Sara ate only a little, claiming she was feeling a little sick to her stomach. He was going to really have to force her to eat when he got her home. _Wow, I' m going to be taking her home –well, unless her memory returned before then…_

The nurse (nurse Mary again) had come in a little while later to check Sara's stats. Her blood pressure was still high. _Not good._ Mary had informed them that Dr. Johns would be stopping by any minute as he was now making his rounds for the morning.

That had been over an hour ago, and they were still waiting. It seemed like all the hospital consisted of was waiting.

Sara's voice broke into his thoughts. "I'm so tired. Do you really think he's going to come?"

"I know, honey. I'm sure he just got tied up with a patient. If you want, then why don't you close your eyes? I'll wake you when he arrives," Grissom replied back.

"I hate to do that. I'll see if I can stay awake…maybe turn the TV on, and it'll occupy our minds?" she suggested.

As Grissom began channel surfing, Dr. Johns arrived.

"Hello, Sara. Grissom," he said. "How are you feeling, Sara?"

"Like I've been run over by an eighteen-wheeler," Sara said.

"That's definitely to be expected for what you have gone through. We are going to try to wean you off the morphine today slowly and start you on some other pain medicine. It's still very effective but slightly less strong –and it comes in a pill, which is good for when you go home," Dr. Johns stated.

"When do you think she can go home?" Grissom asked. Sara looked happy to hear the doctor mentioning the word 'home.'

"Let me continue my exam of Sara first, and then I can make a better decision," Dr. Johns replied.

After he listened to Sara with his stethoscope and did a few other things, he asked, "Have you remembered anything yet?"

"No. No, I haven't," Sara responded.

Noting her slightly upset tone, Dr. Johns was quick to reply. "It may take some time, Sara. Don't push yourself to remember. You need to remember to keep yourself calm and relaxed. I read in your charts before I came in that your blood pressure is still high."

"I'll take care of her," Grissom promised.

"Good. You have a very caring husband although I'm sure you already know that. I can tell that the two of you are very lucky." Dr. Johns continued, "On going home, I don't see any reason that will prevent you from going home tomorrow. I will just come back by tomorrow –early afternoon I hope –for a last minute check up. There's not much more we can do here at the hospital for you that you can't do at home. You just need plenty of rest and some time to heal. I'm sure you both will be much happier and more comfortable at home."

"Yes. Definitely," Sara said.

"I will give you some more last-minute instructions tomorrow, but basically I'll be sending you home with a couple of prescriptions. You will need to take off at least another week, if not more, from work. It may seem now that you can handle work, but you have been lying in bed since Thursday so you will more than likely be weak for a while and tire easily. That's not even factoring in the difficulties you will have from your head injury."

Sara grimaced at the thought of missing more work, but she was still too happy about the prospect of leaving the hospital that she didn't argue.

Dr. Johns continued, "Finally, tomorrow we will set you up an appointment scheduled with me to come back so that I can check how you are doing with the head injury. Sound okay?"

"Sounds wonderful," Sara replied.

"Okay, good. I'll come back to see you tomorrow, and we'll get you ready to go home."

After Grissom told him thanks, Dr. Johns left them alone again.

"That's great news, Sara," Grissom said.

"I'm so happy to be able to leave. Tomorrow cannot come soon enough. I seriously hate hospitals," Sara told him. _Does he know about my family? What happened when I was child? Yeah, of course, he has to. We're married –that's not something I wouldn't have told him eventually…_

Grissom broke into Sara's thoughts as he said, "It sounds like lunch is about to be served" –referring to the noise coming from the hall.

_xxx_

At 5:30 that evening, there was a knock on Sara's hospital door. Grissom got up from where he had been sitting by Sara's bed (his permanent place, he thought to himself) and went to open the door.

"Hey, hey! Is anyone up for some company and some food? We even brought ourselves some food to eat –we figured we could all eat together. You know, have dinner together like a family," Greg half joked. He really did consider his coworkers like part of his family.

"Hi, Greg. Catherine. Thanks for coming. Where are Warrick and Nick?" Sara asked.

"They just went to borrow some chairs again and grab some drinks for us," Catherine informed Grissom and Sara.

A few minutes later, the two came through the door with two chairs each plus a sack full of can drinks.

While the boys set everything down, Catherine helped Grissom take the food out of the bags they had brought.

"I really appreciate the food, guys. I have found hospital food to be lacking in taste. Besides, this hospital doesn't seem to be very vegetarian friendly," Sara told the team.

"No problem at all. We don't mind, seriously," Nick said.

After everyone sat down with his or her food and drink, they made some small talk –none were sure whether or not to bring up Sara's memory, or lack of it.

"So how are you feeling today?" Catherine asked.

"I'm okay, I guess. Still feeling some pain. They're cutting me back on the morphine and switching me to some other pain medicine that's in a pill form. My doctor is saying that he's going to release me tomorrow more than likely."

"Really? Awesome!" Greg said. Nick and Warrick both agreed that was great news as well.

"I'm happy to hear that," Catherine said.

"Thanks. I'm so ready to go home. Although, I don't even recall our home…" She broke off and finally continued, "I'm sure it will look familiar to me…I hope…" and once more she trailed off. She was really worried she wouldn't be able to remember the home that she and Grissom shared. _Don't think about it._

The team didn't really know what to say, knowing full well that Sara wouldn't recognize Grissom's home. He had just purchased the new house six months prior after making a decision to sell his townhouse. They were almost positive that Sara would have not seen the new house because they hadn't yet –Grissom hadn't invited them over. Besides her memory loss extended to two years ago, so even if she had seen it she wouldn't remember it. She would have remembered the old townhouse though.

Nick finally said, "Don't worry, Sara. It will be fine."

"Thanks," she replied softly.

Greg then started telling a funny story trying to distract Sara, and she let herself be distracted –happy to have any kind of diversion.

For the next one and a half hours, the team stayed and visited; however, they did make sure to keep away from the topic of Sara's memory loss so as to not upset her anymore.

Checking her watch, Catherine said, "Well, guys we probably need to go. We need to head in to work, and Sara needs her rest."

"Yeah. Okay. Nick, let's go put these chairs back," Warrick said and left a few minutes later with Nick in tow as well as the four requisitioned chairs.

"Hey, Greg –why don't you stay with Sara for a few moments? I need to ask Catherine something about work," Grissom said.

"Fine by me. About time, I get Sara all to myself," Greg answered, grinning.

_xxx_

Out in the hallway, Grissom and Catherine stood alone.

"Will you do me a favor?" he asked.

Not really sure what to expect anymore from him, Catherine cautiously said, "Sure, Gil. What do you need?"

"Sara is being released tomorrow so I was wondering if you would move some of Sara's things into my home…"

* * *

A/N3: This chapter gave me so much trouble because originally 1,000 words of it belonged to Ch. 8 before I split it into two. Ch. 8 originally ended with Grissom asking Catherine the favor, but I felt I wanted to add an additional day in the hospital so I made the favor-asking wait until Ch. 9. I already had the scene for the team's first hospital visit and then the scene of Grissom asking Catherine for the favor…I just had to add in the middle, which gave me a headache. Anyway, I hope you liked what I came up with nonetheless!

A/N4: You know the drill by now -you review and I'll send a sneak peek :-) Opening scene in Ch. 10 -hilarious ;-) Or well I think so at least...


	10. Chapter 10

A/N1: I would like to thank the lovely **BeckyCSI **for her quick beta of this chapter. She's so sweet!

A/N2: First, I love Greg. He amuses me. This chapter is completely different because Grissom and Sara are not in it (gasp)! However, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Secondly, I just wanted to kind of "poll" and see what everyone is thinking about Memories. Do you want me to hurry the story up and wrap it up within the next couple of chapters or are you enjoying the slow build of the story?

Disclaimer: CSI does not belong to me. However, I did buy myself seasons 1-6 of CSI for Christmas :-D I'm super excited! Also I do not claim any ownership of James Patterson and his books; however, I do own a copy of his first four books of the Women's Murder Club series.

* * *

Warrick was in the middle of a difficult case with Nick so he couldn't help her. That was why Catherine was now entering Sara's apartment with Greg in tow at four a.m. Tuesday morning. He had agreed to help her move some of Sara's stuff into Grissom's new home.

Catherine figured that she could begin in Sara's bedroom (for clothes and personal toiletries) and then just go from there. _It wasn't like she had any experience in this –whatever you wanted to call 'this' –insanity, perhaps? _Greg had followed her into Sara's bedroom, but she wasn't really paying that much attention to him.

Stepping into Sara's bedroom, she noticed some sheets of paper that had fallen to the floor by Sara's nightstand. She went over, bent down, and picked them up. Turning the papers over, she read "My Dearest Sara…"

Meanwhile, Greg had decided to start his exploration of Sara's bedroom. _Forbidden territory. Sweet!_ He went over to her dresser and opened a drawer at random. What he found was his version of paradise. _Jackpot, baby!_ Lying in the drawer was some of the skimpiest and sexiest lingerie he had ever seen. Picking up a pair of silky red panties, he let out a loud wolf whistle_. Da-amn! So this is what she wears under all of her conservative attire? Who knew Miss Sara Sidle had a wild side?_ He wasn't sure he would ever be able to look at her the same without wondering what she had on underneath her clothes. _Not like he had done that before or anything…_

Catherine had just read "I want you to have this ring" when she heard Greg's whistle. "What?" she asked a bit distracted.

When she looked up, she saw Greg holding up a pair of slinky red underwear. "GREG!" she yelled. "Put those down right now! You are hereby banned from Sara's bedroom!"

"Okay, geez…sorry," Greg said and backed out of the room. "I'll go do something else."

Catherine just shook her head at him. He really didn't mean any harm; he was just Greg and that was explanation enough.

She did know that Sara was an extremely private person. She respected that even if she didn't understand the reason why. Although she had agreed to help Grissom in his crazy plan, she was going to try her best to not invade Sara's space as much as she could, considering what Grissom had asked of her. So that was why as much as her curiosity was piqued she was not going to finish reading the letter she had found. She would give it to Grissom though. He had already crossed the point of no return days ago. He really couldn't get any deeper than he already was.

Belatedly, she thought to call out to Greg and ordered him to try and keep his curiosity checked as well. Hearing his acquiescence, she picked up a box she had brought into the room and headed over to the drawer that Greg had left opened. _Might as well start here. _

As she began to pack Sara's under things, she thought to herself, "This girl does have some great taste in lingerie. Who would have thought? I just hope I can find some flannel pajamas in here somewhere otherwise Grissom is in for a heap of trouble…"

_xxx_

As Catherine packed Sara's under things, she mentally reviewed how she had gotten to the point of standing in Sara Sidle's bedroom doing what she was now doing.

"_Will you do me a favor?" he asked._

"_Sure, Gil. What do you need?"_ Why hadn't she just answered no? It was like she was a glutton for punishment or something. The things you do for your friends.

"_Sara is being released tomorrow so I was wondering if you would move some of Sara's things into my home…"_

Grissom wanted her to move Sara's things into his home –a home that she had never seen at that point and now he was willing to not only let Sara see it but also live in it. He knew that she had Sara's apartment key already because she had taken Sara's purse from where it had been lying on the sidewalk outside of the Smith's house. Grissom then gave her his key to his new home and directions on how to get there. He had even told her that she could take part of the night off from work to make sure that she had enough time to get his home ready for Sara.

Grissom had also given her his credit card and carte blanche to do whatever necessary to make his home look less like a bachelor pad and more like a married couple lived there and had been living there.

As she and the boys had exited the Desert Palms Hospital, she briefly filled them in on the latest Grissom development. Their initial shock really hadn't lasted that long –maybe because they were all becoming immune to Grissom's shocking behavior. She wasn't sure if anything Grissom did from this point on could shock or surprise any of them.

She had to go into the lab because she had to divvy up work assignments for the night in addition to filling out some administrative paperwork for Grissom since he had not come in since Sara's attack. So far, Ecklie wasn't being a huge pain in the ass about things, but he still expected the paperwork to be done.

Nearly five hours later –closing in on one in the morning, she had finally managed to leave the lab.

While at the lab, she had already realized that she would need to purchase some cardboard boxes to help move Sara's things. "Okay, I'm going to head to Grissom's first and then pick up the boxes and then head to Sara's," she thought to herself.

She wanted to go by Grissom's first –just to get an idea of how much work laid ahead of her that morning. According to Grissom, his home was a good twenty-five minutes from the crime lab. _The man liked his privacy –or well he used to…_

A little over forty-five minutes later (because she accidentally took a wrong turn), she pulled into a nice neighborhood. She was looking for 241 Georgetown Lane. Slowly driving through the dark, deserted streets (because it was now almost two in the morning –God, I hope no one calls the cops, worried that I'm some potential robber, she thought to herself), Catherine finally came upon the correct house. It was a one-story home with a large front porch and a spacious front yard. _Nice. _Neighbors weren't too close to become smothering.

Hopping out of her SUV, she hesitated for a brief second before entering Grissom's home. She didn't feel too bad about going through his home because he had given her permission. Heck, it was his whole idea. She was doing him a favor. However, it was still a bit weird.

She made a little mental checklist as she went through his home.

Kitchen –fairly well stocked. Needs to become a lot more vegetarian friendly though. Dining room –quite nice. Maybe add a bowl of fruit or something as a centerpiece. Living room –nice couches (comfy), large flat screen TV (such a manly thing to have) with surround sound, some nice artwork.

Thank God, Grissom was reasonably tidy. She really didn't want to have to add a lot of cleaning to her to-do list for the morning.

The house had two bedrooms and two baths. Grissom had turned one bedroom into his personal office/library. The first bathroom was a guest bathroom so she wasn't going to worry much with it.

Catherine cautiously entered the master bedroom and let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't too bad, perhaps a bit too masculine. She could handle it though.

His home definitely did not look like a married couple lived there, but she figured by bringing in Sara's stuff that would help a lot. Feminine touches were definitely needed, but it wasn't like Sara was a flowery and frills kind of woman. Maybe she would buy a few extra additions –Grissom did give her his credit card, after all. _Might as well have some fun with this…_

Locking Grissom's front door ten minutes later, she headed back to her car. She needed to go buy some boxes before heading over to Sara's apartment. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was almost three o'clock in the morning. She really needed some extra help, especially with carrying and moving things. She wasn't sure what time Sara would get released from the hospital. Grissom assumed it would be in the afternoon, but what if it happened earlier and she wasn't finished with everything? She wasn't going to take any chances, and she knew Grissom wouldn't want her to either so although he hadn't mentioned getting anyone to help her, she still decided to call Warrick for some assistance.

"Hey, Catherine. How's it going?" Warrick had asked when he answered.

"Oh, you know –just fabulous. I am going to need some help with this whole thing. Do you think you can give me a hand?" she asked.

"I would, but Nick and I are knee deep in this case you assigned to us. I really don't even have time to talk, but I answered the phone because I saw it was you and I was concerned. But, anyway, listen I ran into Greg a few minutes ago. He just wrapped up his case for the night. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

She spent a couple more minutes on the phone with Warrick before hanging up. _Greg. Oh boy. _Well, she was desperate. Desperate times called for desperate measures. So hoping for the best, she called Greg, who picked up on the first ring.

"Hey, Cath!" he exclaimed.

"Hey, Greg. Listen, I need some help with moving Sara's stuff into Grissom's home. Would you be willing…"

Greg cut her off before she could finish asking him for help. "Heck, yeah! This is so cool. A peek into Sara's home without her there, and I get to see Grissom's new house. I'm so in!"

_Oh, God._ Seriously, what did she get herself into? "Okay, okay. Greg, I'm going to swing by the lab to pick you up. See you in about twenty. Bye," she said and hung up.

An hour later (after picking up Greg and going to buy some large boxes –a dozen), she and Greg stood outside of Sara's apartment door. Taking a deep breath, she inserted the key, opened the door, and stepped into Sara's apartment. If she thought going into Grissom's home felt weird, then she had been wrong. Going through Sara's apartment and through her things without her permission was definitely crazier. _God, help me. Please, let Sara not kill me when she finds out._

xxx

"Catherine, I'm going to start packing some of Sara's books and c.d.'s," Greg yelled from Sara's living room, snapping Catherine back to the present. "Is that okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, Greg. That sounds great," she yelled back in reply. She had just finished cleaning out majority of Sara's dresser drawers.

She really had no clue how much or what to pack. However, she figured to be on the safe side that she would pack more since she needed to make it look as if Sara lived at Grissom's.

She couldn't believe the trouble that Grissom was willing to go through when Sara's memory was going to return shortly._ But what if it doesn't?_ Her mind finally voiced the alternative she was trying so hard not to consider. _God, how is Grissom going to handle it? He will have to fess up eventually. I honestly cannot believe he admitted his feelings for Sara finally._ _I don't think I have ever been so shocked. I knew –hell the whole lab practically knew –that Sara had feelings for Grissom. However, as much as Warrick, Nick, and Greg may have suspected here and there that Grissom cared for Sara, Brass and I were really the only ones who knew how strong those feelings _were_. Maybe something good can come out of Sara being hurt –like the whole silver lining in a cloud kind of thing. I mean –hey, Grissom has already taken his head out of the microscope, and I wasn't even sure if that were possible!_

After packing a good portion of Sara's clothes, she moved onto Sara's bathroom. Toiletries. For a half a second, she considered just buying some new soap and shampoo for Sara but then she figured it would look better if both were actually used. Good thing she had sense to go get some boxes. Reaching into Sara's bathtub she grabbed her bath soap, which was Sephora's Indulgences Morning Coffee and Cream Bath Scrub. It looked like she had been using it, which made her happy. She had gotten it for Sara as a 'just because' kind of gift a month ago. It smelled heavenly –just like hazelnut coffee.

Finishing packing Sara's bathroom essentials, Catherine moved back into Sara's bedroom to pack random things that she could place in Grissom's home. _I need to check on Greg in a little while, too. He's been kind of quiet. I hope he hasn't gotten into anything!_

Going around Sara's room, she grabbed the books that were lying on Sara's nightstand. _1__st__ to Die_ by James Patterson. Figures, Sara would read that kind of book. Underneath the Patterson book, there was an Entomology textbook, which looked well read.

She then opened Sara's nightstand drawer to see if there was anything important she needed to take. Opening the top drawer, she saw a photograph lying on top of some papers. It looked familiar. The picture was of Grissom and Sara at the lab's annual Christmas party from two years ago. She finally figured out why it looked familiar. She had taken this picture and had given a copy of it to Sara. However, if she was remembering correctly (and by noticing the serrated edges to one side of the photograph, she assumed she was), then Nick had been standing on the other side of Sara. _Interesting. I'll take it along. Shit –pictures! What the heck was Grissom going to do about wedding pictures? They have to have wedding photos!! Well, I guess we could always Photoshop some wedding photos together back at the lab. Oh God, did I really just think that? I'm getting in way too deep…I'm becoming corrupted._

Noticing Sara's bed was a king size (just like Grissom's), she came to the decision that she would take Sara's sheets and comforter. Grissom's bed covering was just solid black. Sara's, however, was elegant and not too feminine as to look out of place in Grissom's bedroom. It was a deep, rich navy blue (and so incredibly soft) with some embroidered ivory flowers, beginning at the bottom of the bed. It would be perfect for Grissom's bedroom.

After stripping Sara's bed and folding her bedspread, Catherine made her way into the living room to check on Greg.

"I'm pretty much finished in Sara's room. I will have to do a final run through before we leave, but I think I got most of the important stuff," Catherine told Greg.

"Okay, I'm about finished packing Sara's books and c.d.'s," Greg said.

For the next couple of hours, she and Greg worked jointly, filling boxes and boxes with Sara's things. Grissom had told her to make sure it looked like Sara lived there so they were trying to grab as much stuff (and as diverse as possible) to throw in with Grissom's things in his home. She still wasn't sure if she completely agreed with Grissom's idea, but she had promised to go along with it for the sake of Sara's health. She wasn't willing to jeopardize her friend's well being.

"I'm going to go make a list of food that Sara has in her refrigerator and cabinets to see what kind of stuff I will need to pick up at the store," Catherine told Greg as she headed towards Sara's kitchen. _Not like I really expect her to have much –knowing Sara, she probably has little in her apartment. She probably survives on eating out. _

Entering the kitchen, she noted Sara's one lone plant, which looked vaguely familiar to her as well. However, her mind was busy making a mental checklist that she didn't analyze why. _I'll take that plant along to Grissom's, I guess._ She did water it though before she turned her attention to Sara's cabinets.

She was right. Sara definitely was lacking in the groceries department. Figures that Sara wouldn't make it any easier on her, although in Sara's defense it wasn't like she knew that she was going to have a visitor coming through her apartment trying to find out what she ate.

There were some bagels on the counter. Looking at the bag, she noted that they had expired a week ago and threw them out. She went back to the living room in search of some paper and a pen to write with so that she could make some notes on what to get at the grocery store. Returning back to Sara's kitchen, she noticed a couple of cookbooks lying haphazardly under a phonebook._ I should take them to Grissom's –help him get some ideas because I don't even think Sara really cooks._

After jotting down some food ideas, she walked out of the kitchen and back into the living room and watched as Greg finished packing the last of the boxes that they had brought with them.

"So I guess let's get packed up. We'll need to go by Grissom's first because although my SUV is huge we won't be able to fit any groceries in there. If we need anything else, then we're just going to have to buy it," Catherine told Greg.

"Okay. I'm just following your lead. You're the master," Greg said. He was just along for the ride and what a ride it was! He was enjoying helping out. He felt like he was a secret agent –all this top-secret stuff. _James Bond had nothing on him! Sanders, Greg Sanders. It had a nice ring to it, if he did say so himself… _

_xxx_

Pulling up to Grissom's home for the second time that morning, Catherine got out of her vehicle followed by Greg. "Okay, let's get started. By the way, Greg –keep your hands off of Sara's under things."

Catherine told Greg that she would take care of Grissom's bedroom. She wasn't even going to start to think about how he was going to handle that particular situation –sometimes not knowing was seriously the best way to go. _Ignorance is bliss._

_Crap! I need some hangers for Sara's clothes. Why didn't I just grab them from Sara's? Well, I am trying to do a million different things at once within a set time limit. I'll just have to pick some up._ Leaving Sara's clothes to be unpacked later, Catherine went ahead and unpacked Sara's under things and made room for them in Grissom's dresser drawer. _This is so weird. _She really couldn't quit thinking that.

She placed the two books she had found on Sara's bedroom nightstand on one of Grissom's nightstands by his bed. When she had come in earlier, she had just glanced around the room, but now she decided to make sure that everything was suitable. It definitely needed some additional help.

She stripped Grissom's bed, and she remade the bed with Sara's comforter. _Much better._ Adding some of Sara's candles and a few of her knick-knacks would make the room look much more like a married couple cohabitating. _This really was hard work. Grissom definitely owed her –big time!_

Grissom did give her his credit card. Maybe she would go buy some extra things in addition to the things she brought from Sara's. After all, it would make sense that they would have bought new stuff together as well.

Finishing up in Grissom's bedroom (minus unpacking Sara's clothes), Catherine decided to peek into Grissom's nightstand drawers. _Wouldn't look too good if he had some dirty magazines hidden away… _

Opening the top drawer of one of his nightstands, she found a photograph lying on top of some papers (much like she had at Sara's place). She recognized the photograph because she had taken it. It was a picture of Grissom and Sara at another one of the lab's Christmas parties. She was also pretty sure that when she gave this picture to Grissom it had included Brass as well. _It was kind of scary how similar these two were…_

* * *

A/N3: Remember that mention of the letter from Sara's grandmother in Ch.2? Well, in the next chapter, the letter will finally be revealed. Oh, oh! The pictures at the Christmas parties that Catherine found are "kind of" a hint for people to go check out my joint collaboration with **Jenstog **called "I Smell Sex and Candy Canes."

A/N4: You know the drill: Review so that I know you are reading and I'll send you a sneak peek of the next chapter! Thanks!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N 1: This chapter is not beta-ed (cringe) because my beta sent me back the wrong chapter (she's still amazing though). I didn't want to make you wait any longer so I'm posting.

A/N2: So I lied. Not intentionally though. I swear I'm a very honest soul. I really, truly believed that Ch. 11 would have "dead grandma's letter" (as I call it) in it. However, it just did not feel right (to me) to have the letter included in this chapter. Therefore the letter will have its own separate chapter (Ch. 12). I hope you aren't too upset with me. Also I want to apologize for not being able to post this quicker. I have been working a lot and I'm honestly quite exhausted by the time I get home. However, I will give a promise to update and post Ch. 12 by Saturday (at the latest)! Is that cool? Anyway, I wanted to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas (or whatever you may celebrate). Thanks so much for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own CSI or its characters. I do however claim ownership of the words written here.

* * *

Finishing up in Grissom's room for the time being, Catherine stepped out in search for Greg. She found him in Grissom's office adding in some of Sara's books and forensic journals to Grissom's extensive collection. 

"Hey. Listen, I need a break from this so why don't we head to the grocery store? We can pick up some food to stock Grissom's kitchen," Catherine told Greg.

"Sounds good to me," Greg replied.

Twenty minutes later, Catherine pulled up to Whole Food Markets –she had never shopped there before but she had noticed a plastic bag bearing the store's logo on it at Sara's apartment. Apparently, it was the world's largest leading retailer of natural and organic foods. Sounds like a place Sara would shop, when she shopped for food that is.

Entering the store, Catherine headed over to where the shopping carts were located to grab one. Greg beat her to them.

"Let me push the buggy. You have the grocery list, and you will need the free hands to grab food and cross off things from the list," Greg reasoned.

"That's fine," Catherine said. She led the way while he followed behind her. _I hope he doesn't run into anyone with the cart._

She began in the fruits and veggie section of the store. _They have good produce –maybe I should start to shop here as well. _For vegetables, she grabbed some potatoes, onions, red and green peppers, fresh spinach, broccoli, mushrooms, eggplant, and tomatoes.

Mentally shrugging as she piled the food into the cart, she thought, "The girl is a vegetarian after all…"

Moving on to the fruit, she added some oranges and grapefruit. She thought it best to stock Grissom's refrigerator with an assortment of food.

"Hey, Catherine. Look –I have huge melons," Greg joked. Catherine glanced up from where she was and saw Greg standing in front of the bin that held cantaloupes with two in front of his chest.

"Greg! Put those down. NOW! Behave!" _I can't take him anywhere –God, I hope no one saw that._

She quickly loaded the buggy with some fresh strawberries as well as some kiwi fruit and bananas. She wanted to get out of the produce section before Greg created any more embarrassing scenes for her. _God, help her if he saw the cucumbers…_

Too late.

"Catherine! Look at the size of this cucumber… it's almost as big as my sneaker… you know what they say about a man's foot size and his…"

"GREG!" Catherine hissed. "Shut up now. There are kids in this store!"

Properly chastised (for the moment at least), Greg trailed along after Catherine as she moved through the aisles with speed and efficiency.

Mumbling at times to herself, she crossed things off her list as well as added things to the shopping cart she hadn't thought of. This whole grocery-shopping excursion so far was an experience –one she wasn't sure she wanted to repeat, especially with Greg in tow.

_Popcorn? Good for movies._ Catherine threw some in the cart.

Bagels, bread, and pitas were all placed in the buggy as well. _I'll pick up some syrup, and they can have French toast one morning._

Pasta, rice, and soup –check.

_Chocolate fudge brownies?_ She had noticed a box in Sara's cabinets. _Every girl –even a vegetarian –needs some chocolate every now and then._

Salsa, tortilla chips, mixed nuts, yogurt, pickles, and peanut butter (she noticed Grissom's jar was almost empty) –all perfect for snack time.

She marked off the rest of the items she needed –hummus, tofu, soy hot dogs, and veggie burgers.

_Crap, I forgot the milk and eggs._

"Greg, stay here. I'm going to go run and grab some soymilk and eggs," Catherine said as she hurried off.

Less than a couple of minutes later (after she had grabbed her two items), she heard over the intercom, "Clean up in aisle seven. Clean up in aisle seven, please."

_Oh, shit. What aisle number did I leave Greg at? Please, please let it not be Greg! Please!_ The fates apparently chose to ignore her and to not listen to her pleas that day.

She found Greg in aisle seven surrounded by cartons of pasta that had fallen. Some boxes were open and pasta shells were scattered across the linoleum floor.

_What the hell had he done now?_

Greg spotted her and headed over toward her. Their buggy was in the middle of the aisle, in front of the scattered mess.

"So, um, please don't be mad at me, but I –uh –decided to race down the aisle and time myself and uh well I kind of ran into the display of pasta while trying to avoid hitting a little old lady. But in my defense the old lady came out of nowhere –seriously, one minute the aisle was clear and then the next –BAM –she was right there! So if it is anyone's fault, then I say BLAME HER!" Greg was getting animated as he explained to Catherine what had happened.

_Oh, God._ "Seriously, Greg –I told you to stay put. How hard is that to listen to? I wasn't even gone but a couple of minutes," Catherine told him, exasperated. _He was more trouble than a freaking kid._

"Sorry," Greg said, hanging his head low in shame.

"Ma'am is this your shopping cart?" a masculine voice asked from behind her (since she had her back to the 'disaster area' Greg had created).

Catherine turned to give her attention to the owner of the voice. _Great –the store manager. _

"Yes it is. Thanks."

Laying on some extra charm, she continued, "I'm so sorry for the mess my friend made –he honestly didn't mean to cause any problems. Do we need to pay for any damages?"

"It's okay. Things happen –though truthfully it is normally the ten-year-old kids causing the spills. Next time, maybe, don't leave your friend alone…" the manager said.

"Hey now!" Greg began, insulted.

Catherine shot him a deadly glare to silence him and then smiled widely at the manager. "Thank you so much for your understanding. I look forward to shopping here again."

Turning to Greg, Catherine said, "Greg. Come. Now."

Greg followed but under his breath he muttered, "I'm not a dog, you know."

Fifteen minutes later, they were through the line and out of the store. Catherine used Grissom's credit card to pay for the groceries and only winced slightly at the large dollar amount she had spent. Apparently natural and organic food cost a bit more. Nonetheless, she breathed a sigh of relief as she got into her car since they had gotten through the store without any further incidents from Greg. _Thank God._

Twenty-five minutes later, they pulled back up to Grissom's home armed with food fit for a vegetarian.

Greg helped her carry in the bags of groceries but then disappeared to unpack some more of Sara's stuff saying that since she was a female the kitchen was more her domain and she would do a better job. After she playfully kicked Greg's butt for his sexist remark and shooed him out, Catherine began to convert Grissom's kitchen into a more vegetarian friendly one.

Catherine took out all the cold stuff and placed it into Grissom's refrigerator first. She kept out a few oranges and grapefruit and set them aside. Next, she went through Grissom's cabinets and found the large decorative bowl she had noticed earlier and laid it on the counter. She then artfully positioned bananas, oranges, and the grapefruit in the bowl. Walking out of the kitchen and into Grissom's dining area, she placed the bowl on Grissom's table, creating an instant centerpiece.

Back in the kitchen, she continued to unpack the groceries and to place them in Grissom's cabinets and pantry. Within ten minutes, she was finished in his kitchen.

She then headed back to the master bedroom with the hangers she bought to put up Sara's clothes in Grissom's closet.

A couple more hours later, she and Greg had finally finished unpacking all of Sara's stuff. They exited the house together.

Catherine told Greg she would drive him back to the lab so he could go ahead and get some sleep if he needed to do so.

"I really appreciated your help this morning," Catherine told him. She knew she couldn't have managed to finish everything without Greg's assistance.

"You're welcome. It was really no problem. I was glad to help out although I still cannot believe Grissom is doing what he is doing," Greg said.

"Grissom has his reasons. It's what he wants to do," Catherine replied back.

"Yeah, well it will definitely be interesting around the lab until Sara's memory returns. Are you sure you got the rest handled?" Greg asked. "I can help you more if you need me too," he offered.

"Yes. Thanks, Greg. You really were a big help to me this morning…well except for those few incidents in the grocery store and the thing with Sara's panties. Yeah –best to forget about that before I want to yell at you again."

Greg was personally hoping she wouldn't mention the panty incident to Grissom or to Sara –he wasn't sure who he should be more afraid of. Probably Grissom.

Catherine continued, "After dropping you off at the lab, I think I'll go swing by Pier 1 and pick up a few things. Maybe some picture frames for those two pictures I found. I think I might even have some other photos of Sara and Grissom that I can place in their –I mean in Grissom's house."

"What pictures?" Greg asked.

"Oh, they are just a couple of pictures of them at the lab's Christmas parties the past couple of years. Sorry, I thought I mentioned I had found them. Anyway, after I pick up a few more things to place in Grissom's house and maybe even swing by my house to pick up some extra photos, I'm going over to the hospital," Catherine said and glanced quickly at her SUV's dashboard to the clock's display. It read 11:01 a.m.

"Cool. You're going to see Sara?"

"Yes. I figured that neither Grissom nor Sara thought that she would need a fresh change of clothes to go home in. Besides, I need to give Grissom something…" she said as she thought of the letter that she had stuck in her purse earlier that morning.

Ten minutes later, she said goodbye to Greg at the lab as she dropped him off and then headed to Pier 1 Imports. After picking up a few things there, she headed over to the Desert Palm Hospital.

Parking and getting out of her car, she looked at her watch again. It was now ten minutes after twelve o'clock.

Walking through the hospital's double doors, heading up the elevator, and down the maze of hallways, Catherine finally made it to Sara's hospital door. _Okay, game time._

Knocking lightly on the door, she pushed it open when she heard Grissom's voice call out, "Come in."

Entering the room, she noticed that Sara was awake and sitting upright. "Hey, Sara. How are you feeling?"

"Still sore. I just really, really want to go home. The doctor hasn't been in yet," Sara informed Catherine.

"Sorry. I guess these things take a while. Grissom, can I see you outside for a moment?" Catherine asked.

"Sure," he said, a bit puzzled. Still he followed her outside.

Taking out the letter from her purse, Catherine quickly explained, "I found this lying on the floor in Sara's bedroom. I picked it up, not knowing what it was. But I promise as soon as I realized what it was I stopped reading it."

"What are you talking about, Catherine?"

"I don't know really. Like I just said, I didn't read the letter. Just the first few lines –it mentions a wedding ring. I assume it's the ring that Sara is wearing. I thought you would want to read it."

_Wow. Okay, finally some explanation for the ring –I hope._ "Thanks. Yeah, I will read it."

Catherine handed the letter over to Grissom. "I'll uh tell Sara that you went to stretch your legs and to give us a moment for girl talk. I brought her a change of clothes."

"Okay, thanks. I appreciate it," Grissom said.

Before Grissom could walk away to get some privacy to read the letter, he heard Sara ask Catherine, "So how was shift last night?"

"Oh, you know, just the usual…"

* * *

A/N 3: If you want to give me a Christmas present, then review! I promise to send a sneak peek of Ch. 12 asap! 


	12. Chapter 12

A/N1: I feel like I need to say a lot of thank you's. First, I want to say thanks to Grace for the beta! Secondly, to Jen and Becky –thank you so much for helping me get through the holidays. You two are amazing. Lastly, I want to say to everyone who has reviewed –THANK YOU. The response to the last two chapters have been astonishing, and I'm feeling so loved! So can I ask that you keep it up lol –otherwise I will feel unloved and I'll have self esteem issues…and that wouldn't be good! Also this update is happening sooner than expected due to me succumbing to peer pressure of many pleas of "update soon" so see leaving a review is good -it makes me feel bad and feel the need to write more and quicker :-D

A/N 2: The long awaited letter has arrived. I hope you enjoyed the humor in the previous two chapters because don't expect any humor here. You might classify it as angst. I always knew I wanted there to be a letter from Sara's grandmother so that Grissom could find and read the letter and understand where the ring came from. I, however, had no clue what the letter would say beyond "I want you to have this ring." However, one morning I woke up early and I could not go back to sleep because this letter was demanding to be written. So I wrote. It's long; it's angsty. These words are what came out, and I went with it.

**Warning:** This chapter might be considered M for its contents (discussion of domestic violence) so please proceed with caution.

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of CSI or its characters.

* * *

Hoping to find some privacy as he read the letter that Catherine had discovered in Sara's apartment, Grissom walked outside of the hospital. After a few minutes of searching, he found a bench located in a secluded area away from the hospital's main entrances. 

Sitting down, he opened the folded pages and began to read.

_My Dearest Sara,_

_I want you to have this ring. It was my wedding ring. I don't even know if you'll remember me at all, but I'm your grandmother –your mother's mother. When you get older (you'll understand what I'm talking about one day), you look back on your life. You remember both the happy and the sad times. And you recall your regrets. Your mother was one of mine._

_Laura, your mother, was an only child, born to your grandfather and me late in our lives. She was such a sweet child –always so inquisitive and bright. We spoiled her a bit too much, but she was always such a good daughter. And, perhaps, we sheltered her from the world a bit as well. It can be a scary place, and our Laura always had "rose-colored glasses on." She was always determined to see the best in people. _

_Having her was one of my greatest joys as well as one of my greatest sorrows in my life. _

_Your mother was so full of life. She was friendly and outgoing. In high school, she was friends with everyone, and everyone wanted to be her friend. She had the most optimistic outlook on life than anyone I have ever known. She was so involved in everything. Student Council. Homecoming Committee. Chorus. The Science Club._

_I can still recall the dress she wore for her senior year prom. It's funny the details you remember. She looked absolutely beautiful –in a strapless red dress with only the bare minimum of makeup and jewelry. Laura was so excited because the co-captain of the high school football team had asked her out. His name was Joe; he was your father. That year, your parents won Homecoming King and Queen._

_After prom, the two were inseparable. "JoeandLaura" quickly became a single word. If someone wanted to find Joe, then they knew to look for Laura as well. Her father and I were concerned about all the time they spent together, but it was young love._

_One day near high school graduation, Laura came through the front door with Joe –with all the light and excitement shining through her brown eyes. She told her father and me that she and Joe were getting married after graduation. We were in shock. We asked about college. She was too bright to not go. Laura said she would eventually go after she had settled into her married life. It was hard to see our dreams for a brighter future for our child become destroyed. _

_Laura and Joe ended up eloping. I didn't even get to see my only daughter marry –something that bothered me immensely. So when your mother called me three months later to tell me that she was pregnant, I put all the hurt and disappointment aside and told her how happy I was. We started talking again like nothing had ever happened. When your parents bought a little one-story house a few streets away, I could not have been any more thrilled._

_When your brother was born, it was a happy day. Joe was so excited to have a son that he could teach to play football. Things were good. Your father had a decent paying job, and Laura stayed home to care for Jack._

_Four years later, your mother came to tell me that she was pregnant again. She was standing in my kitchen, holding your brother on her hip, glowing. A couple of months later, she found out she was going to have a little girl. We spent the rest of the afternoon (after we cried happy tears) discussing all the things that needed to be done. The nursery had to be painted pink. Every little girl needs a pink room, your mother said. She was so ecstatic to be getting her little girl. I asked if she had any names picked out yet. She said yes. "Sara. Sara Elizabeth Sidle." Tears welled up again in her eyes and mine, and we cried some more tears of happiness._

_Five months later, you were born. You were the most beautiful baby in the world, and you came into this world laughing. You had a head full of dark, curly hair. You were my sweet little angel. Oh, I loved you._

_I can't pinpoint exactly when it happened, but things slowly began to change. You might have been about two years old when your mother began to lose some of her sparkle on life. It started with small things. Your father would make a comment about the way your mother wore her hair. Make some disparaging comment about dinner. Small things –things your mother would laugh off when I was around and just say, "Oh, Joe is having a bad day. He's worked hard." _

_It might have been a year later when I noticed Joe drinking more. Your grandfather and I were never strict conservatives about alcohol. I occasionally liked to have a glass of wine in the evening to wind down, and your grandfather favored two fingers of whiskey on a cold night. Drunkenness –repeated drunkenness –was something I had no tolerance for. Joe had always drunk, but it had been maybe a beer once a month and he had never become inebriated. That once a month beer, though, became a once a week beer and finally a beer every day until he moved onto harder liquor._

_It was that year that I first saw a bruise on Laura's arm. At first, she was startled that I had seen it. Then she laughed and said something like: "You know me –I'm clumsy these days. I must have run into the door." I took her word, thinking why would she lie to me? And the alternative was so much worse to consider. However, I decided to keep a watchful eye from that day on._

_It was maybe six months later when I had come over to your house. I had offered to baby sit you while your mom took Jack to the doctor. He had a stomach bug I believe. _

_Her bedroom door had been closed. I knocked, but she didn't hear me. I wanted to let her know I had arrived so I just went in. Laura was standing by her bed –dressed only in her bra and jeans. Jack had thrown up all over her shirt moments earlier, and she was in the process of changing. None of that mattered when I saw the large purple and blue bruise on her ribcage._

_I must have made a sound –a choked, strangled gasp. Laura turned around quickly, hugging the shirt she was about to put on to cover the bruise._

"_Laura, what happened?" I questioned her. "I ran into the door –its nothing." I think I must have said something like that looks more like something or someone ran into you. She told me she didn't have time for this right now. She was late. I wouldn't let her go so she finally said that Joe had done that to her. Then she picked up Jack and rushed out the door._

_I'm not sure how long I stood there –in shock. I had seen the signs. Despite that, you didn't ever want it to be true. _

_Over the next two years, the bruises became more frequent. Laura took to wearing long sleeve shirts –even in the summer months. She couldn't always cover the bruises, especially when he gave her a black eye or a split lip. The injuries piled up –a dislocated shoulder, a sprained wrist, a broken arm. _

_I couldn't understand what had happened along the way. I tried to talk to Laura. First, to get marriage counseling –hoping that would help. Then, finally, to leave him. _

_She refused. She said she loved him. And he loved her. It wasn't that bad. He really didn't mean to hurt her. Besides, it was her fault most of the times. She burnt something. She forgot to pick up his favorite beer at the store. She didn't dress up often enough. Then when she did he would accuse her of intentionally showing off for other men. _

_Our relationship became strained. When we talked, we would get into arguments about her continuing to stay. One of our last conversations was full of anger, and mean words were hurled at each other. I couldn't stand seeing my daughter living that way. I told her to think of you and Jack. She wouldn't listen. I was angry with her and yelled, "If you stay with him, then you can't possibly be my daughter." She looked at me, with no emotion in her eyes, told me to go hell and that she didn't need me anymore. That was the last time I saw her for a while._

_I was hurt and completely flabbergasted. Where was my smart, confident daughter? The sweet little girl, who had been so full of life? The one who always had a smile on her face? I didn't recognize this woman she had become. Her father and I hadn't raised her to be someone's punching bag. We had taught her to stand up for herself. I kept asking myself where I went wrong as a mother._

_After our blowout, your parents had moved. I finally found out you were living thirty minutes away. I tried to talk to Laura once more. I begged her to leave Joe. I even started crying; I guess it was the crying that finally cracked the hard exterior she had built up. I could see her eyes –they were weary and defeated. She told me that she was staying with him. She had made her choice in marrying him and she was going to stand by him. After all, the vows had said 'in good times and bad times.'_

_It broke my heart that my baby thought that being beaten is what bad times had meant. How could she even think that? _

_Laura told me it would just be easier all around if she just broke all ties with her father and I. I protested, but it was no use –maybe I should have kept trying, but my heart couldn't bear anymore hurt._

_It wasn't until six years later that I heard anything else and that wasn't even from Laura. I had just made some supper. Your grandfather was not doing well. He had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. I turned on the news and heard the headline, "Woman kills abusive husband. They had two children." Before the newscaster said her name, I knew it was Laura. I don't know what happened. She grew tired of the abuse? She finally just snapped? _

_I went to visit her at the jail once while she was standing trial. It took me a while to get the courage. I was even a bit surprised that she had agreed to see me. Maybe she was curious. I went to ask if she needed anything. She said no. I asked about you and your brother. She said that you didn't need me. You didn't even remember me. She told me that she had told you I was dead. Then she left and that was the last I ever saw of her._

_I don't know how I got home. I was in so much pain. Even after I allowed your mother to write me out of her life, I kept up a steady stream of birthday and Christmas cards for you and your brother. I never got a reply back, but I still hoped that you had received them –and now that hope had died._

_After your mother was convicted, you were placed in foster care –Jack had run off. I thought about seeing if I could take you home. God, I thought about it and wished for it. But I also thought –she doesn't know me. She thinks I'm dead. Maybe it would be better if I didn't make her life anymore difficult. Besides due to your grandfather's health, debt was piling up, and I could barely afford to make ends meet._

_I don't know if I made the right choice or not. I want to hope that I did. And now I'm dying. The doctor has told that I have stage IV lung cancer. Funny this is I have never smoked in my life. I don't have much longer to live._

_Knowing death is imminent makes you wonder, and I desperately wanted to find out how you were doing so I hired a private detective. It took him a while to locate you, but he finally did._

_I want you to know how proud I am of you. Berkley, Harvard. And now you're a CSI –finding justice for victims who need someone to speak for them. Your grandfather would have been so proud of you as well. I hear that you're excellent at your job. You are friends with your co-workers and they respect you and like you as well._

_I'm told you're not married. You deserve all the happiness that life can offer you. The man you marry will be the luckiest man on earth. I just hope he is worthy of you._

_I want you know that I'm so sorry for not trying harder –for not being able to get your mother to leave your father. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to take you out of foster care. I hope you can forgive me one day._

_I love you, my sweet angel. And my biggest regret in life is that I am never going to get the chance to tell you that again to your face._

_Your Grandmother,_

_Mary_ _Elizabeth Thompson_

* * *

A/N3: This letter was extremely difficult for me to write, but I felt that it had to be written. I really, truly felt like I had to go back in Laura's life. Through her grandmother's words, I wanted to show the change from the young, optimistic girl she had been to the defeated, murdering wife she became. Sara's father, Joe (as I decided to call him), was not always a mean, abusive husband. He started out good and decent, but the drinking changed him. I don't know. I'm nervous to post this because I'm not sure what people will think. But I'm posting because this is what came to me and so I hope you like the letter in all its angsty glory. 

A/N4: Drop me a line and let me know what you thought (and make my day), and I'll send you a sneak peek of Ch. 13 a.s.a.p.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N1: A special thanks to my lovely beta, Grace (**graciebutterfliedgsr**). She's quite amazing.

A/N2: Additionally, thank you to everyone for all the lovely, positive feedback I have received for this story. Everyone's kind words have been so appreciated. I've really enjoyed writing this story thus far but knowing other people are enjoying my little GSR fanfic has been exciting. So thanks! Today's the first day of 2008 so I wanted to wish everyone a very Happy New Years. I hope this next year is full of great things for all of you.

Disclaimer: I do not currently own CSI or any of its characters. However, it's a brand new year and I have high hopes… I also claim no ownership of the Nietzsche quote I used (though I will say that I used it with a particular person in mind who told me to always remember it).

* * *

Turning slightly in the driver's seat as he parked his vehicle, Grissom reached over and gently placed his hand on Sara's arm. "Honey, we're home. Wake up," he softly said, not wanting to startle her.

It was now ten minutes until nine o'clock, and he had just pulled up to his house –the house that was he was going to be sharing with Sara until her memory returned. Dr. Johns had gotten tied up with his other patients and hadn't come in to release Sara until almost five that evening. It then took about two more hours to get Sara fully discharged from the hospital. He also had to manage to place all the flowers and gifts Sara had received into his car and that had taken an additional fifteen minutes.

As he pulled out of the hospital with Sara, it had been past dinnertime so he had stopped so that they could eat as well. Next he had to swing by the drugstore to pick up Sara's prescriptions because he knew she would need her pain medicine soon. Her last dose was probably wearing off. Sometime during the drive from the drugstore to his house, Sara had fallen asleep.

He honestly hated to disturb her so instead of trying again to wake her up he decided he would carry her into the house himself. Grissom got out of his vehicle and quietly shut his door. He walked to the passenger's side door and opened it. Carefully, he reached in and unsnapped Sara's seatbelt but it slipped from his grasp and snapped loudly back, causing Sara to awaken.

"Sorry honey. I didn't mean to wake you. Are you all right?" Grissom asked immediately.

"Hi. We're home?" Sara questioned as she looked through the car's windshield to the one-story house before her. It did not look familiar to her at all. _Damn it._

"Wait –Grissom, you weren't planning to carry me into the house, were you?" Sara asked.

"Uh, yes. I was considering that option. I didn't want to wake you. You were sleeping so peacefully," Grissom explained to her.

"That would have killed your back –not to mention your knees! Good thing I woke up," Sara said as she got out of the car slowly with some assistance from Grissom.

As they arrived at the front door, Grissom found his house key, which Catherine had returned when she came to the hospital earlier, on his key chain.

Taking a deep breath, he inserted his key and opened the door.

As Sara stepped into his house for the first time, he felt that not only was he opening his home to her, but also something else he had always kept guarded –his heart.

"Welcome home, Sara," he softly said.

_xxx_

Sara would not be able to remember his house –not because of her amnesia but because of the fact that she had never been there. It was a strange feeling, to enter his house knowing that both Catherine and Greg had been there hours earlier, adding Sara's stuff in with his. He already noticed a few new additions –a throw on his couch and candles on his coffee table.

_Well, it looked like Catherine did a good job. Thank God._

"Sara, what do you want me to do? Do you need anything?" Grissom inquired, unsure of himself and the situation he had created.

"I know it's not even nine o'clock, but I'm still tired so, um, I think maybe I'll just go take a shower and go to bed. Is that all right with you?" Sara asked as she tried to hold back a yawn.

"Of course, that's fine," Grissom replied back.

Two minutes later, Sara was still standing in the middle of his living room –as if waiting for him to say something else.

_God, I'm completely clueless. She doesn't know where his –their (he mentally corrected himself) bedroom was._

"Sara, I'm sorry I wasn't even thinking…here, um –why don't I show you the way?" Grissom said apologetically.

Sara was quiet as she followed Grissom to their bedroom.

Reaching and entering the master bedroom of his house, Grissom stopped and turned to face Sara.

"Do you need any help?" he asked although he wasn't sure what kind of help he could offer. _Well besides the offer to wash her back. Don't think that! Platonic relationship, remember?_ Besides, he wasn't quite sure where Catherine had put Sara's things, and he figured it would look a bit weird if it took him a few tries to locate the drawer containing Sara's under things. Making a mental note of it, he decided he would need to spend some time after Sara fell asleep to get reacquainted with his new house with Sara's things in it.

"No. No, that's okay. I can handle it. I can find my clothes. I think. Um, don't worry. Okay?" she said, nerves evident in her voice.

Grissom wasn't quite sure if he should leave her alone, but he figured that it was rational to assume that she needed some time to herself.

"Okay, honey. You know that if you need me then I'll just be right outside in the living room," Grissom told her and headed out of the master bedroom.

Standing outside his bedroom door, he said, "I'll come back and check on you in a little while."

Sara nodded her head and then promptly shut the door in his face.

Feeling slightly bemused, Grissom walked away.

_xxx_

On the other side of Grissom's bedroom door, Sara was currently standing with her back against the door, heart beating wildly.

_Breathe. Just breathe –in and out._

She would never have expected to be this freaked out –ever. All she had thought (and dreamed) about when she in the hospital was coming home. She couldn't wait to go home to Grissom and her house they shared together.

Yet here she was in their bedroom, and she was willing to admit to herself at least (but maybe not out loud to anyone else) that she was terrified.

She had been okay at dinner and even in the car ride to the house though admittedly she had fallen asleep for part of the trip. However, when she had stepped into her house with Grissom and realized that she had absolutely no recollection of this home she started to feel anxious. She never was one to have anxiety attacks (she didn't think so at least unless something had changed), but she couldn't help this feeling she was having. _I didn't even know where our bedroom was for God's sakes! How completely absurd is that?_ Grissom had to show her. He had just stood there, assuming she knew where the bedroom was. But she hadn't known. Frankly, it sucked.

When he had asked if she had needed any help (and despite the concern she could easily read on his face), she had told him no. She would figure it out on her own. She was an adult –she could find her clothes by herself. At least, she hoped she could.

She had also needed some breathing room. Twisting and playing with her wedding ring, Sara sat down on Grissom's –no their bed. She couldn't remember being married to him. She couldn't recall a single detail of their dating history. She didn't even know what they had done for their first date. Had he kissed her that night? Or had it taken him a while longer to get up the nerve? _Knowing Grissom and his 'weigh all the pros and cons' nature, I probably grew annoyed with the anticipation of our first kiss and had made the first move myself._

_How am I going to be able to share a bed with Grissom when I don't freaking remember having sex with the man?_ She had dreamed of sharing a bed with Grissom so many times in the past, but it was a bit different now. She couldn't quite explain it to herself, but she just knew it was. They were married now. They had shared a bed before –many times. She just couldn't remember.

Also if she was to be completely honest with herself –and why the hell not, she thought –she was a bit scared about the prospect of sleeping with Grissom. She had never shared a bed for an entire night before. Yes, she had slept with men before. However, all her previous 'hook-ups' had never stayed the night at her place (because she had quite honestly kicked them out) and if she had ended up at the guy's place, then she left on her accord after the night's activities had come to an end.

She was nervous, and as silly and stupid as that might sound to people, that was the truth. She and Grissom had shared a bed more than once (obviously since they were married), but she couldn't remember that.

_What if I'm a cover hog? What if he was? _She had no idea.

_What if I kick in my sleep?_ She would feel bad about kicking him –although it wouldn't technically be her fault since she would be asleep, right?

_Oh God, do I snore? Shit –I'm not quite sure. That would be so embarrassing! What if he snored?_ She couldn't handle that either –she needed her sleep. _Eh, I will just throw a pillow over him to shut him up. Hopefully I won't smother him in the process…_

Shaking her head at her mental dramatics, Sara got up from the bed and headed into the bathroom to take a quick shower. The hot water would feel wondrous because she was chilling a bit.

Turning the faucet as far as it would go to hot, she waited a couple of minutes before she stepped into the shower sans clothing.

Her brain continued thinking in overtime as she showered.

Although she couldn't remember her life after 2003, she did know that she was lucky to have somehow married Grissom. She struggled for a few more minutes to recall anything about their life together but came up blank. It was so hard for her to not be able to remember anything, but she worried about Grissom as well. _How hard must it be for him to have a wife who cannot even remember being married to him?_

_What kind of wife am I? I don't even know small, trivial things about him –things a wife would and should know. How does he like his eggs in the morning? Does he wear boxers or briefs? _She knew that she had always imagined him as a boxers man._ How does he look when he wakes up in the morning?_ These were things she should know, and she wanted to know them –desperately.

_  
I don't even know if I should ask him questions –what do I say? Oh, sorry dear but can you tell me…?_

Feeling frustrated over her lack of memory (and recalling Dr. Johns telling her to not force her memory), she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.

Wrapping a towel around her, she found the blow dryer under the sink and quickly blow-dried her hair. She then found a hair band and pulled her hair into a quick, messy ponytail. After brushing her teeth, she made her way back into the bedroom.

Heading over to the dresser drawer, she randomly opened a drawer.

"Wrong drawer," she thought as she saw Grissom's shirts.

_Oooh, a sweatshirt! Well, I am cold, and I'm sure I've worn Grissom's clothes before –I think._

Picking up the sweatshirt, Sara lifted it to her face and inhaled deeply. It still kind of smelled like Grissom. Dropping the towel, she quickly put on the sweatshirt before she chilled. She had never worn another man's clothes before, but slipping into Grissom's sweatshirt just felt right. It felt nice. The shirt came down to mid thigh. She opened more drawers until she found her lingerie. Slipping into a pair of gray cotton Victoria Secret's panties, Sara made her way to the bed again.

Coming to the bed, she frowned. _What side do I sleep on?_ Spotting a Patterson book on the left bedside table –she thought she had read him before –she slipped under the covers.

_I need to go say goodnight to Grissom and tell him I'm going to bed now. I'm so exhausted, and this bed is oh so comfortable._

As she drifted off to dreamland, her last thought was, "Five minutes. Five more minutes –then I'll get back up and tell him goodnight…"

_xxx_

After Sara had shut the door (literally) in his face, Grissom had made his way into his kitchen to begin his inspection of Greg and Catherine's handiwork on his house. Or rather, his and Sara's house, as it was now. He nodded in approval at Catherine's food selections as he searched through his cabinets and refrigerator. It definitely appeared now as if a vegetarian lived there. _That's good._ Heading out into his living room, he noticed on his fireplace mantle a couple of new picture frames that hadn't been there before.

Moving closer to the mantle, he picked up the first frame. It was the picture that had previously been in his nightstand drawer. It looked good out and in a frame. He just hadn't had the nerve to display it before. He tried not to feel any embarrassment over the fact that Catherine had found the picture. She had taken it and given it to him so therefore she probably remembered that Brass should have been in the picture as well.

_Well –it's not like she doesn't know by now that I care for Sara –hell, I invited her into my house. I let Catherine go through my house and my stuff so that she could make it ready for when Sara came home. I'm even willing to admit that it's not usual behavior for me. Therefore it's not as if Catherine is clueless to the fact that I care about Sara –I told her so myself at the hospital._

Picking up the second picture frame, he saw Sara and himself at another Christmas party. This must be the picture Catherine told him that she found at Sara's apartment. He felt ridiculously happy that Sara had a picture of them together.

Catherine had also said she had a few more pictures of them (she thought) that she could place in his house if he wanted her to do so. He had declined the offer. Additionally, she mentioned something about the lack of wedding photos and asked him how he was going to handle that. He had not even thought about wedding photos. Catherine had continued and said that she and Greg could probably Photoshop some decent looking wedding pictures.

At first, he had looked at her –wondering when and if an alien had come and taken over her body at some point. He had corrupted her, apparently. After this initial shock of her suggestion, he had told her no. Under no circumstances was she (or Greg) to Photoshop wedding photos of Sara and him.

He couldn't quite put it into words to explain it but it felt wrong. It didn't feel right to have fake wedding pictures made. He honestly wasn't sure what was going to happen with his and Sara's relationship –although hell did they even have one at this point? Nonetheless, fake wedding photos were something he knew without a doubt he did not want. The only wedding photos he wanted were real ones…

_And God…I can't believe I just thought that._

On the lack of wedding photos, he wasn't sure how he was going to explain it. Maybe he would just say that the wedding photos (along with other photos of them) had gotten lost during the move. He could tell her that they had just moved in about six months ago since that is when he had moved in. He thought it was entirely plausible, but honestly he didn't know what he would say. As much as he was one to want to know everything, he had a feeling that until Sara's memory returned he was going to feel unsure of himself a lot. This was entirely new to him. Everything was. So he was going to try something else new –just wing it. He just hoped that he could handle any curve balls that Sara might throw at him, so to speak.

He was still reeling from the letter he had read. The ring that had been bothering him all this time was now explained. Sara wasn't married. He should be happy and relieved and he was about that at least. However, he had not been prepared, at all, to read what he had. Truthfully, he felt that he might have invaded too far into Sara' life –and yes he did realize how ironic that statement was considering he was pretending to be Sara's husband and had her stuff moved into his house.

It was really no wonder why she had seemed a 'bit off' Thursday night as Nick had said she was. He couldn't imagine finding out one moment that your grandmother had been alive all this time only to find out in the same moment that she had died. It did not seem fair at all. He was assuming Sara had finished reading the letter but maybe she hadn't. He knew it had been extremely difficult for him to read the letter so he could not really imagine how hard it must have been for Sara to read.

He did know that he was beyond thankful that he had gone outside of the hospital to a secluded bench for some privacy as he read the letter. The letter was truly heart wrenching.

Reading Mary's words, he felt like he was right there with her –watching as her daughter changed in front of her eyes. When Sara had told him that her mother had killed her father, he hadn't pressed for more details than she gave. She had never said the actual words, but she had in so many other words let him know that her childhood was one of domestic violence. As a crime scene investigator, he was 'privileged' to see too many evils of the world. Domestic abuse was something he had seen often. He had seen the tragedy and the horrors that abuse resulted in. However, he had always felt somewhat detached from the situation. Reading the letter from Sara's grandmother, he felt it had finally begun to sink in more on what Sara's childhood must have been like and what she had gone through, the horrors of growing up in a home full of abuse. He knew that never again would he feel detached from a case of domestic violence.

Sitting outside the Desert Palm Hospital, his mind wandered to Sara. She was one of the strongest people he knew. He thought of how incredibly difficult her childhood had to be have been. To have seen her father's alcohol addiction take over. To have heard her parents argue. To have heard the raised voices. The screams. The anger. The mean, hateful words. To have seen her mother stay. To have seen the bruises. Had she witnessed any of them? Surely, she had. Had she cried herself to sleep at night? Had her brother tried to comfort her at all? Had he tried to step in and protect his mom? Had she… had she been the victim of her father's violent hand as well?

He didn't know any of the answers. As much as he didn't want to bring up the painful memories for Sara, a part of him wanted to know to understand her better. He wanted to tell her and to reassure her that she would never have to worry –he would never hurt her. He would never lay a hand on her in anger.

She was so extraordinarily strong to have survived her childhood and to have become the woman she was today. He completely agreed with Mary on that point. Friedrich Nietzsche had said, "That which does not kill us makes us stronger." He felt that Sara personified the quote. Sara hadn't allowed her past to affect her. She had overcome the difficulties of her childhood and triumphed. He was so proud of her.

He had smiled when he had read Mary's description of Sara as a baby while later he had struggled not to cry while reading that Sara's grandmother had terminal cancer. He was so sorry for Sara that she would never get to meet her grandmother, who had obviously loved her.

Shaking his head at his sad thoughts, Grissom realized the shower in his bedroom had been cut off a while. He decided that he would get up to check on Sara to see if she was all right. He walked to his bedroom door and knocked lightly. Not hearing any kind of response, he became a bit worried so he cautiously opened the door.

Sara's name had been on his lips but died the moment he saw her. Smiling, Grissom took in the sight of Sara asleep in his bed. His bed. This was an image his heart had yearned for so many times over the years. So many times had he dreamed of this moment. He almost couldn't believe it. He shut his eyes and reopened them a moment later to make sure he wasn't dreaming –although if this was a dream, then he didn't want to wake up. Ever.

Sara was still there. _Thank God._

Walking quietly to her side of the bed –wow, did he just think that? 'Her side?' –to pull up the covers around her, he noticed that she was wearing one of his old sweatshirts. He was a bit startled at first. He had never seen a woman wearing his clothes before and for it to be Sara was all the more disconcerting. He considered the image of Sara sleeping before him in his sweatshirt in his bed again and decided he liked it –quite a lot. Brushing a few stray strands of hair away from her forehead, he bent down and kissed her lightly on her temple and then made his way to 'his side' of the bed.

Stripping down to his boxers, he slipped into bed, trying to be careful not to disturb Sara. Normally, he slept nude, but he figured under the circumstances he better not.

As he drifted off to sleep (it had been a long day for him as well), he thought that it was going to be an experience sleeping with Sara. He had never shared a bed before for the whole night. Ever. The few women in his past had always left (after he had semi-bluntly suggested they do so) or he had left the woman's bed.

His last thought as sleep overtook him was that he hoped that Sara stayed on her side of the bed…

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A/N3: First, who is excited that Sara is home? Raise your hand!! I know I am –and I'm the one writing this story! Let the fun times begin… Secondly, I made every effort to post early as a thank you to everyone who has been so kind! Also I'm a bit sneaky because I hope that by updating early all of you will give me a bit of leeway in updating for Ch. 14. A good friend of mine (who I haven't seen in many months) is coming into town for a few days (Thurs-Sat!), and I'm beyond excited! However, I won't be able to write much so be patient –please?

A/N4: This is where you go do your thing (review) and then I will do my thing (send a sneak peek of Ch. 14).


	14. Chapter 14

A/N1: I would like to thank the lovely ladies, Grace (**graciebutterfliedgsr**) and Becky (**BeckyCSI),** for the help in the beta department.

A/N2: I want to reiterate my thanks for the fabulous response to my last chapter. Thank you as well for being so patient with this update. I tried my best to update asap. I worked on this chapter throughout the day on Sunday, and I have a horrid head cold so it isn't the easiest thing to do when your head feels like it's going to explode from all the pressure. But I kept writing and working on it because I kept thinking about all my lovely reviewers waiting patiently for the next chapter –so see I really do love and appreciate all of you. Enjoy -please!

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI…

* * *

Standing in his kitchen, Grissom began taking out the ingredients from his refrigerator for the night's dinner. It was almost six o'clock Wednesday evening.

_xxx_

Shortly after lunch, Sara had fallen asleep again. Her sides were still sore from her attack. He really could not stand to see her in any sort of pain, so although she hadn't been too keen on the idea he had made her take her pain medicine, which had proceeded to make her drowsy. She had fallen asleep while watching the Discovery channel with him in the living room. The show MythBusters had been on.

After noticing that Sara was sound asleep, he had decided to carry her to his –no, their –bed because he felt that the bed would be much more comfortable for her to lie on.

While Sara was sleeping, he had taken the opportunity to explore the changes to his house some more, i.e. figure out what drawers were his and which were Sara's. When he had put Sara to bed, he had noticed the two books on the nightstand on the left side (Sara's side, he thought to himself) of the bed. He glanced at the first book –James Patterson. He had never read any of the guy's work, but he was often on the bestseller's list.

Then he spotted it. _The book._ The entomology book he had given Sara a few Christmases ago. _She still has it._

Grissom picked up the book gingerly and flipped through the pages. It looked well read, and he saw in Sara's handwriting numerous notes in the margins of the pages. _Find out more information! Ask Grissom later. Bring this up in front of Grissom –will it impress him? _That was just a few of the handwritten messages in the book. Many of the pages were highlighted and dog-eared as well.

It appeared that she had really liked his gift to her. He didn't have to look in a mirror to know that he was probably grinning like an idiot at the moment. He still didn't know what had possessed him to get a Christmas gift for Sara that year –much less how he had gotten the nerve to give it to her finally. He had been at his favorite bookstore. Just a little hole-in-the-wall store that housed the most diverse and unique collection of books he had ever seen. Maybe he had been thinking about Sara. He didn't know. He just remembered that he had seen the book and had thought that Sara would like it. She was always asking him questions about the subject and she had always seemed to be interested in his answers, which was impressive considering the fact that he knew he could become quite verbose when discussing the life cycles of insects. Sara had never seemed to mind.

He had purchased the textbook, but then he had a hard time figuring out how to give the present to Sara without making a big deal about it. He had assured himself that it wasn't that big of a deal –it meant nothing. Absolutely nothing, although he had never purchased a gift for any of his other team members – a fact he conveniently overlooked. Since he couldn't come up with a better way –he really wished he knew her locker combination and he would have just stuck the gift in there but he didn't know the combination –so that was why on Christmas Eve he had ended up at Sara's apartment, knocking on her door.

Sara had answered, yawning.

_Damn it, I woke her up._

"Hey, uh, Grissom. What are you doing here?" Sara had asked. "At my apartment?" she had added for further clarification.

His brain had clearly decided to desert him. Completely. "Um…I just wanted to drop off something for you," he somehow managed to reply.

Sara finally noticed the gaily-wrapped present he held. It had taken him a good fifteen minutes to wrap, and he was quite proud of his achievement. Her eyes then lifted to meet Grissom's.

"You bought me a present?" Sara had asked, disbelief evident in her voice.

Now it seemed as if all thoughts had left her brain. "Um, well come in. Please," she motioned him in.

He really wanted to hand her the present and "book it" out of there as fast as he could. _I really don't know what possessed me to buy her that damn textbook! Damn it, I have to go in for a few minutes at least or I'll be considered rude. I'll just stay a few minutes… _

Grissom stepped into her apartment, nervously. He handed her the present. "Here. It's nothing. Really. Just a little something I, uh, picked up –thought you might like. If you don't, then well, uh…"

"Grissom," Sara said, laughing a bit. Apparently his babbling had eased away whatever nerves she had. "Can I open this now?" she asked as she carefully shook the present.

"Yeah, go ahead. Sorry. Of course, you can open it_." God, just shut up now before you make a bigger fool of yourself!_

Sara sat down on her sofa. She gestured for Grissom to do the same, but he was too nervous and wired to sit down so he shook his head in the negative.

She half-shrugged her shoulders and carefully ripped into her present that he had painstakingly wrapped earlier.

Moments later, she had his gift unwrapped and the textbook was sitting on her knees. The wrapping paper had fallen to the carpet. Sara was staring at her gift intensely, running a hand down its spine.

_Okay. Good or bad? Does she like it?_ He had no idea.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, Sara," Grissom began.

Her eyes shot up and met his. He could see joy and something else he couldn't name in her eyes.

"Thank you, Grissom. I didn't get you anything… I wasn't… I, uh, wasn't expecting anything from you." The words rushed out of Sara's mouth as she got off her couch, stood up, and began to walk towards him.

"That's fine, Sara. Honestly. It's really not much like I said earlier…" Grissom replied. _Now she feels guilty she didn't get me something. This is not going well._

Sara finally approached him and stood before him.

_What is she thinking?_

Before speaking, Sara hesitated a moment and then said, "It is a big deal, Grissom. It really means a lot to me. I love the book. I'll treasure it." What Sara didn't add out loud was that she would treasure the book mainly because it had come from him –that he had brought her a present although it clearly flustered him. She continued, "Would you like to stay a while? I don't, uh, have any plans. We could order some food… I don't really cook…" she had trailed off and laughed nervously.

_Damn, I want to stay. I really want to. _It surprised him how much he wanted to do so, but he knew he couldn't –he shouldn't. There were rules to be followed, after all. So he had declined by saying that he had a couple more errands to do that night before he headed home. Sara said that it was okay but he saw the quick flash of hurt that had shown in her eyes before she had been able to mask it.

"Merry Christmas, Sara," he said as she led him to her door to leave. "Have a nice evening." He wasn't really sure what to say to her anymore.

"Yeah, thanks. Have a good evening as well," Sara responded. She shut the door slowly behind him as he walked out and whispered, –so softly that he almost did not hear her – "Merry Christmas, Grissom."

At work a few days later, Sara had cornered him in his office and had told him thanks once again. She had told him that she really liked his gift. He hoped that she was being truthful, but he hadn't known for sure.

He hadn't known until now, standing in his bedroom by the nightstand on Sara's side.

Feeling quite happy, he gently replaced the books in their original positions and left the bedroom quietly so as not to disturb Sara from her sleep.

Grissom headed to the spare bedroom he had converted into his office and library. He hadn't checked to see if Catherine had made any changes there. Walking into his office, he immediately noticed the newest addition to the room. A plant.

_That's not… it couldn't be. Could it?_

As he was fond of saying, the evidence never lies. It was the same species as well as the same plant holder (it was yellow with red lady bugs on it). Sara had kept it –his gift of apology for acting like an idiot. However, only God knows that if he had given Sara a plant every time he had acted like a jerk then she could easily by now have her very own tropical rainforest in her apartment. Sometimes, he really was amazed that she hadn't just left. He, for one, was beyond grateful that she hadn't.

Grissom stepped closer to inspect the plant. She hadn't killed it, and by the looks of the size of the plant, she had taken care of it well. Again, he felt ridiculously happy. He was thrilled to find out that she hadn't let it die or just tossed it. Instead, she had nurtured the plant.

He really honestly didn't deserve her, but he knew he that he didn't want to live without her in his life. Standing in the middle of his office, he would admit to himself that he was selfish enough to want her and to keep her even if she might just be better off if he stayed away. He knew that he had caused her plenty of pain in the past. He truly had not meant to hurt her intentionally any of the times. He had just somehow managed to do so by failing to do anything about his feelings for her. That was over now. He was not going to deny his feelings for Sara any longer. Instead, he was going to embrace them. He knew it was going to be difficult since he had so many years of practice of pushing his feelings back; however, he was determined to make all the past wrongs and hurts up to Sara –as soon as her memory returned.

The ringing of the phone startled him. _I need to get that before the phone wakes up Sara. _He didn't have a phone in his office. The only phone he had in his house was in the living room; it was a portable phone.

After shutting off the light in his office, Grissom made his way into the living room and answered the phone in his customary greeting, "Grissom."

It was Catherine on the other line.

"Hello. How was work last night?" Grissom asked.

"Work was okay –nothing too unusual last night. The cases were fairly cut and dry. I was calling because I wanted to check to see how Sara was doing so that I can inform the team. Nicky had a good idea last night at work. He suggested that since we all want to know how Sara is doing that one of us could call before going into work to check on Sara and then that person would let the others know since we don't want to bombard you with phone calls. The phone ringing off the hook would not be a good thing and we don't want to disturb Sara from sleep or anything," Catherine said.

"Sara is doing about the same. It's hard to really say because she's still sleeping a lot; in fact, she's asleep right now. The pain medicine makes her groggy. After lunch, I could tell she was in pain so I told her that she needed to take her medicine. She tried to argue with me at first, but in the end I won. I really hate to see her in pain. Also the doctor said it was important for her to gain her strength as well so I'm trying to make sure she eats well. I'll probably start dinner in the next hour or so."

"I'm sure it's a good thing for Sara to sleep. It will help her body recover, I assume. So how was the house? Are you okay with what I did? Did you check out the kitchen? Were the groceries I bought okay, you think? I bought a few extra additions like the picture frames, a couple of decorative vases, and some throw pillows for the couch. I think I gave you all the receipts from the purchases at the hospital."

"The house looks good. You did well. Thanks. The kitchen is well stocked and everything. It saves me from having to worry about rushing out and buying any food for a while. I appreciate it," Grissom told her.

"Thank God. I tried my best. I really wasn't sure what to do or how far was too far to go. So I'm glad you think I did fine. That's a relief. I'm just going to go ahead and ask since I'm dying to know, and you know I'm not one to hold back. So what was Sara's reaction yesterday to coming home?" Catherine asked.

"I'm not sure, honestly. I noticed that she didn't really react that much. We didn't get to the house until almost nine because the doctor did not come in until almost five. Then we had to go through the waiting process of getting discharged, we ate, and I had to go pick up Sara's medicine as well. So when we got here Sara was exhausted. She took a shower and practically fell asleep as soon as she walked in the door."

"Oh, okay. Hmmm. By the way, when are you thinking of coming back to work? We all have been wondering. Ecklie has been inquiring as well. I don't think he thought you were going to be gone this long so I'm not so sure he's going to continue to be as understanding about your little impromptu vacation," Catherine informed him.

"Work? I'm more concerned about Sara at the moment that I haven't really thought about it at all. As for Ecklie, he's a pain. You know that, Catherine."

"Well he's a pain you have to deal with, Grissom. Listen, I have some vacation time as well. I can take off a couple of days if you wanted me to do so. I could come over to your house and keep Sara company for a few hours or something so you wouldn't have to worry about her being alone all night. Plus, if I took a day or two off then I could spend some more time with Lindsey as well."

Standing in his office with the phone to his ear, Grissom thought to himself that he really did have some great friends. He spoke into the phone, "I do appreciate the offer. I really do, Catherine. Just … just let me get back to you on that. Okay? I don't want to go back to work too soon. I want to make sure –see for myself that Sara is recovering and getting better."

"That's fine, Grissom. I just wanted you to know that the offer is there, and I'm sure the guys feel the same way. Anyway, I hate to cut this short but I need to grab a shower and do a few things before I head into work so we'll talk later. Tell Sara I said 'hi' and that we miss her at work," Catherine said.

"Okay, I will do that. Thanks for calling to check on Sara. She'll appreciate it. Have a good night at work, and, uh, tell everyone I said 'hello' as well," Grissom responded.

After he and Catherine exchanged their goodbyes, Grissom hung up the phone and placed it back on its cradle to recharge. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost five o'clock –a bit too early to start dinner. _I'll just grab a forensics journal and read it for a while…_

_xxx_

While his mind had drifted back to events that took place in the past and earlier that day, Grissom continued his dinner preparation. Sara had mentioned in the hospital that she was craving some Mexican food. So he had looked through one of the cookbooks Catherine had brought over from Sara's and found a recipe for black bean burritos. It sounded pretty good to him.

He had already chopped up the onion and the red bell pepper. The recipe called for fresh cilantro, but he didn't have any so he figured he would just add some dry cilantro that he had –not as good but you work with what you have on hand.

Taking out the aluminum foil from his pantry, he placed two tortillas in the foil and placed them in the oven to bake.

As Grissom turned on one of the stove's eye to medium heat, Sara walked into the kitchen.

"Hi," she said, sleepily.

"Hello, Sleeping Beauty. I'm glad you're awake. I was just about to go wake you up since dinner will be ready soon. Did you sleep well?" Grissom asked as he placed a skillet on the stovetop and gave her a quick smile.

Sara shuffled over. She was still wearing his sweatshirt, and she had put on some pajama pants. He thought she looked cute.

Yawning a bit, she replied, "Yeah, I slept well. I don't even remember falling asleep at all. I thought I was in the living room…? Hmm. Weird. Anyway, what are you cooking?"

"I'm making us some burritos. You said you wanted some Mexican food in the hospital so I thought that would be what I make for you tonight," Grissom said as he cooked the onion, bell pepper, garlic, and jalapenos in the skillet. A few minutes later, he added the beans, the cream cheese, the salt, and cilantro into the mixture on the stove.

"It looks like you have everything under control so I won't get in your way, but I can set the table for us if you want me to," Sara offered.

As Grissom took out the tortillas from the oven, he turned toward Sara. "No. Don't worry about doing anything. I don't want you to exhaust yourself. If it is okay with you, then we could just sit on the bar stools at the kitchen counter and not go into the dining room tonight. We can just be kind of laidback and informal this evening," Grissom suggested.

"Grissom, setting the table wouldn't kill me. But I'll do things your way for the moment. And sitting at the kitchen bar sounds fine to me," Sara said as she made her way to the barstool. The kitchen was an open area, which she loved. She liked the fact that if she was in the kitchen then she could still look out and see what was going on in the living room if she had company over. It made the room more open and inviting, she thought.

Grissom continued preparing dinner. He got out the plates and silverware and placed two drinks on the bar. He spooned out the burrito mixture into the warmed tortillas and rolled them up. Carrying the two plates, Grissom made his way to a barstool and sat down next to Sara.

"Do you need anything else, honey?" he asked.

"No, no. This looks fabulous. Thanks," she said as she began to eat her vegetarian burrito.

They ate in silence for a few minutes until Sara spoke up again. "So, um, when are you going to go back to work…"

* * *

A/N 3: I'm seriously ducking down over here –afraid of people virtually throwing things at me! No opening bed scene, no bed scene later in the chapter. Be truthful –how many of you hate me right now? I'm awful. I'll admit it. I will tell you a little secret (which will probably make you despise me worse): this chapter started out as having an opening bed scene (this was before I had posted Ch. 13). Then I started trying to write some more for the chapter so that I could get sneak peeks out to you and I just wasn't feeling it as the opening scene. So I was like okay…I'll push it back and not have it be the opening scene. Well yeah… um you see that didn't happen. I really had all good intentions to put the bed scene in this chapter –I guess that's why there's that quote about good intentions paving the way to hell? But in my defense, a lot of you said that you liked the slow build! Nonetheless, I want to say that I'm 99.9 percent positive that a bed scene will be in Ch. 15...

A/N4: Why don't you click that button that says 'submit review' (come on, admit it… you want to!) and I'll send you a sneak peek of Ch. 15 and you can find out if the opening scene involves a bed... oh la la!


	15. Chapter 15

A/N1: As usual, I want to thank my lovely beta, Grace, for her continued help in this story. Thanks sweetie! And again many thanks to everyone for all their kind words …without all the encouragement I'm not sure I could have gotten this far! P.S. Sorry for the "shortness" of the chapter as I have been under the weather and heavily medicated…so, um, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Why must I go through this torture? I mean after 14 other chapters… seriously. Okay, okay. Don't sue me –I'll say it. Begrudgingly. I do not own CSI. Are you happy TPTB?! You just broke a girl's heart…

* * *

_Friday morning..._

Grissom woke up for the third day in a row with Sara spooned against him. He had learned that Sara Sidle was a fan of cuddling when he awoke on Wednesday morning and found that she was no longer on her side of the bed. Instead, she was curled up next to him. Her face was buried in his chest and her right arm was loosely draped across his side.

Thursday morning presented him with the same predicament.

Grissom took another moment (like he had done the previous mornings after his initial shock of having Sara so intimately close to him had left) to appreciate the feel of Sara's body pressed against his. Her long, lithe body was the perfect fit for his. Trailing a hand lightly down her left arm, Grissom pressed a small kiss to her shoulder. Realizing that soon (real soon) other parts of his body would fully awaken, Grissom jumped out of bed, much like he had the prior two days.

_Yeah, it was probably a good idea to have that cold shower…_

Grissom grabbed some clothes to wear for the day, headed into the bathroom and shut the door. He had also learned that Sara was a sound sleeper. At least she was when she was medicated. Still, he tried to be as quiet as possible as he took a quick shower.

Shutting off the shower faucet fifteen minutes later, he wrapped a towel loosely around his waist while he spent a few minutes towel drying his hair. After brushing his teeth and getting dressed, he turned off the lights as he left the bathroom. Taking a quick glance at the bedside clock, he noted that it was only ten in the morning.

Before he headed out of the room to the kitchen, Grissom pulled up the covers that had fallen off of Sara. He didn't want her to catch a chill…

_xxx_

Sara woke up in the middle of Grissom's bed –alone for the third day in a row. Sighing out loud, she reached over to lay a hand on Grissom's side of the bed. It still contained a little bit of his warmth. Yesterday Grissom had brought her breakfast in bed as he had the preceding day. She found it to be incredibly sweet but a bit annoying as well. She longed to have the luxury of waking up to Grissom. She knew she had before many times; she just couldn't remember any of those times. So she was looking forward to making a new memory (at least until her old ones returned and she reassured herself that her memories would return) of waking up to Grissom. She wanted to see how he looked when he woke up from sleep. If she was a gambling type of woman, then she would bet that he looked gorgeous.

She wanted desperately to remember.

And she wanted to share a lingering good morning kiss…

Grissom thus far had not tried anything. Well, unless you counted a brotherly peck on the forehead. If she was really lucky, then she got a quick 'kiss' on the cheek. It was, to be quite honest, frustrating as hell.

She remembered with past boyfriends she had not been overly affectionate. A few of them had even gone so far as to accuse her of being cold. She hadn't cared, not really. However, with Grissom she knew it had to be different. Right? After all, they were married. But how was she to know for sure? What was she supposed to do? Ask Grissom? She could just imagine herself asking him over breakfast. _Oh, honey. Was I affectionate to you? A lot? And by the way while we're on the subject how was our sex life on a scale of one to ten? _She was pretty sure she would rather die in embarrassment before she asked him.

Besides, she really did not want to upset him. She could tell that Grissom was having a hard time with her memory loss. So she did not want to keep bringing up the glaring fact that she still couldn't remember being married to him all the time.

She had asked him over dinner Wednesday night about why she didn't see any wedding photos of them. Grissom had told her that they had been married six months. They had moved into their new house shortly after the wedding and their wedding photos along with other pictures had gotten lost in the move. When she heard the news the photos were lost, she was dismayed but when she saw Grissom's face she could tell that he was as well. She wasn't sure how he was dealing with things. They were newlyweds and he had a wife who couldn't remember any aspect of their relationship.

She was going to be more affectionate she decided. Grissom might be holding himself back because he was afraid that she might want him to do so. She would just have to convince him otherwise. Knowing Grissom and his slow nature, she figured she better start soon.

_Speak of the devil…_

"You're up. Good morning, sweetheart," Grissom said as he entered the room, carrying a tray loaded with enough breakfast for two.

"Good morning," Sara replied with a small smile.

Grissom continued into the room and set the tray down on the nightstand by Sara's side. He leaned down to give her a good morning kiss on her cheek like he had done the prior two mornings.

_At this pace, I will never have sex again…or well I won't until I'm sixty!_

So Sara decided to take action. She turned her head at the last moment as Grissom's lips descended toward her face and instead of her cheek he kissed her on the mouth. It was over with way too quickly and she wasn't sure if it would qualify as a kiss but Sara smiled nonetheless as a small jolt of pleasure coursed through her body. _Nice…_

Grissom drew back, startled. His eyes were a bit wide and bewildered.

He cleared his throat. "Um. Yeah. Yeah, I made you breakfast," he said, stating the obvious.

Sara's smile grew even bigger. "I see that. It looks great. Thanks." _Aww, so cute! He's flustered! So sweet. _"Here, why don't you come sit down in the bed, and I'll share with you?"

Still a bit shell shocked by the kiss, after all it was their first kiss ever (although Sara did not know that), Grissom obediently followed Sara's directive. Sara was probably just sitting on the bed thinking that what had just happened was an everyday occurrence for the two of them. Instead, it was something that had just turned his world upside down.

_Her lips are so soft. She's so incredibly beautiful. I just kissed Sara. I KISSED Sara! _

It only lasted a mere moment, but in that moment when their lips had touched it had been magic. He had always felt it was silly for people to describe kisses as magical and to say that the world stopped spinning for them when they kissed another person. He had never felt that. Not once. Until now. Until Sara. As soon as his lips touched hers, he knew without a doubt it was over. Done. Finite. He was sunk. She was 'the one.'

_xxx_

Sara finished eating her last bite of French toast and drained her glass of orange juice. Grissom nodded in approval as she completed her meal. He was insistent that she ate well because he said she needed her nutrients to get better.

"That was excellent. Thank you, Grissom. You spoil me," Sara lightly teased him.

"Everyone deserves a little extra TLC every now and then," Grissom replied back with a smile on his face.

"Well if I'm not careful then your little extra TLC is going to make me gain weight!" she exclaimed.

"That wouldn't be a bad thing. It wouldn't hurt for you to gain some weight. You might even be underweight."

Sara laughed. "Grissom, you are crazy! But thank you for saying that anyway."

Deciding a subject change was in order, Grissom asked, "What do you want to do today?" The last two days she had slept mostly due to the effects of the medicines she was taking.

Stretching lazily in bed, Sara thought out loud, "Umm… well you and I both know that I'll probably end up falling asleep. Why don't we just make a bed on the couch and watch the Turner Classic Movie channel? I think I saw last night that they were doing a marathon today of Audrey Hepburn movies. I love old movies. Is that all right with you?"

"I like old movies as well. It sounds like a great plan, Sara," Grissom quickly assured her. "If you want why don't you take a shower first? I'm sure that will make you feel a bit better. Just join me in the living room whenever you're finished. I'll just take some pillows and blankets and make a pallet on the living room couch. I will have it all set up by the time you finish," he promised.

Sara smiled her thanks and headed into the bathroom. A minute later, he heard the shower come on.

While Sara showered, Grissom began gathering pillows and blankets to get the living room ready for some serious movie watching time. He was looking forward to a day of lounging around with Sara.

Sara had asked him Wednesday night over dinner when he was planning to go back to work.

"I'm not really sure, Sara. Why do you ask?" he had questioned her.

"I like having you around –a lot. However, I just don't want you to get into any trouble with work. You have missed a lot of work because of me…"

"Honey, I'm more concerned about you than I could ever be about work. I'm not going to go back to work until I know you are going to be okay. Let's see what Dr. Johns says when you have your appointment with him next week, and I'll make a decision then. Besides, I like taking care of you."

She had just smiled shyly at his remark and started on a new topic.

Grissom continued setting up the living room, and twenty minutes later when Sara strolled into the living room, he had everything set up. He had dimmed the lights and lit a few of her favorite smelling candles. The scents of lavender and chamomile filled the room.

"Wow," Sara thought as she stepped into the room.

_Wow. How does she manage to take my breath away by just walking into the room? It shouldn't be possible. Scientifically, it should really be impossible. _It wasn't like she was 'all dolled up' or anything. She was just fresh from his shower with her hair still slightly wet and pulled back in a ponytail. She was wearing another one of his shirts –this one she had tied up so it showed a hint of her bare midriff –and she was wearing a pair of pajama shorts. Again, nothing special. Right? No, wrong. Seriously wrong. To him, no one had looked more beautiful. Ever.

Sara had continued after the first night her habit of wearing his clothes to bed and to lounge in. She had told him a bit sheepishly when he had teased her about one of his shirts swallowing her whole that she liked wearing his clothes because they still smelled like him. She had also said that it kind of felt like he had his arms around her, giving her a hug. She felt safe. He hadn't really known what to say so he had just said something asinine about his hugs always being free. However, he knew he was going to be in serious trouble if Sara ever wore the lingerie he happened to find in his dresser drawers while trying to figure out what changes Catherine had made to his bedroom. Just seeing her in his old t-shirts made him uncomfortable enough…

"Hey. It looks good. Cozy." Sara's voice snapped Grissom's attention back to the present as she moved into the living room. "What movie is coming on next?"

"Roman Holiday is just coming on actually. It's the one where Audrey Hepburn plays a sheltered princess who falls in love with an American newsman played by Gregory Peck," Grissom informed her.

"Sounds good. I guess let's get comfortable," Sara said. When Grissom headed to the recliner, she asked "You're not going to sit here on the couch with me?"

_Caught._ "Um, well I thought you might want to stretch out or something. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable. And I didn't want to hurt you accidentally by moving around on the couch," Grissom responded.

"Grissom, I will be okay. Anyway, I don't want to stretch out at this moment anyway since I just woke up a little while ago. Here, come join me. Please?" Sara asked as she held her hand to him.

Grissom sighed and walked away from the recliner and toward the couch –toward Sara. "Yes, dear. I'll share the couch with you."

Still, Grissom sat on the opposite end of the couch as Sara.

_Silly man…_

* * *

A/N2: First -dances up and down excitedly- Grissom and Sara shared their first kiss! Secondly, the above is the bed scene that I was referring to all along. There is a bed and there is Grissom and Sara. Hence, I call it a bed scene. It might not be what some of you wanted and some of you may be happy with this version. I stand firm behind the fact that the other kind of 'bed scene' is not only out of character for Sara and Grissom at this point but also is out of character for this story. However, this does not mean that that kind of bed scene may not happen at a future date…

A/N3: Be sure to let me know what you thought of the chapter! Go do your thing and review and I'll send you a sneak peek of Ch. 16. Thanks!


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: So it's been a while, hasn't it? I apologize for the delay. Writer's block is the devil and I then got completely distracted by a prompt (thanks to Jen!). This is only half of what I expected to write for Ch. 16… but I kept everyone waiting long enough so I decided instead of writing more and keeping everyone waiting longer that I would just go ahead and post what I had (after it was edited a bit). I'm not really sure I like the chapter… so yeah I'm sorry about that. Anyway, I really want to just thank you for your continued interest in the story. It really does mean a lot!

A/N2: To dreamsand and ishotsherlock –what I told you would be in this chapter…well it's in the next chapter. Promise! Also this is sort of beta-ed (thanks to Grace) however I changed it a bit after she looked at it so it's sort of not beta-ed either. So I claim ownership of all mistakes.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own CSI or its characters. Big shocker, I know.

* * *

True to her prediction, Sara had fallen asleep sometime during the second movie, _Sabrina_.

Grissom looked down at Sara, wondering how he had gotten himself into this kind of mess. She was practically in his lap, asleep.

They had started off at opposite ends of the couch. He had tried to sit elsewhere for a bit of distance. Sara, though, had other ideas and wanted him to sit with her on the couch. So he did –as far as he could away. Somehow during the first movie, Sara had drifted nearer. She had claimed that she was trying to get comfortable. And by trying to get comfortable, she had managed to get closer to him. Much closer.

At first, six feet had separated the two of them. Then it was four feet. Three feet. Until finally, one foot had rested between them.

_Why am I acting like this? We're supposed to be married, and here I am freaking out about sitting too close to my wife._

Meanwhile, Sara had continued to watch the movie while sitting on the couch, completely unaware of the mental battle that Grissom was having.

_I told myself that I was going to let Sara in. I want this. I want her. While Sara was in the hospital, I decided that I was going to quit being afraid. Yet, here I am reverting back to my old behaviors. Trying to keep distance between the two of us. I need to stop. I promised that I wouldn't push Sara away anymore. This is truly it, Grissom. The moment of truth. Am I going to let my fears and my old habits keep me from getting the woman of my dreams? Am I going to allow myself to screw this up and be left alone with only 'what ifs' to play through my mind?_

Deciding that enough was enough (finally) and that he needed to get his act together like immediately, he had turned to Sara and said, "Come here, sweetheart. Lean on me, if you want."

Sara had turned her head to look at him. He could tell that she was a bit surprised by his words but still she had moved over until she was next to him.

He had placed his arm around her and pulled her to him. She had leaned in and curled against his side. She had looked up briefly and smiled at him and he returned the smile.

"Thanks."

"Are you more comfortable now?" he had asked.

"Yes. Lots," she had replied and had settled in to enjoy the movie with her husband.

"Yeah, this is better. Much better. Sometimes, I think way too much, and I should just really listen to my heart," he had thought to himself.

During the beginning of _Sabrina_, he had noticed Sara starting to yawn.

"Honey, would you like to go lie down in bed?"

"No, no. I'm okay. I just want to stay right here with you. If that's all right…"

Grabbing a pillow that had fallen to the floor, he had placed it on his lap and offered, "Why don't you stretch out on the couch? If you fall asleep, then that's okay. I won't mind. Besides, you'll be more comfortable lying down, Sara."

"That's sounds nice. Thanks," she had said as she shifted on the couch to lie down with her head on the pillow on Grissom's lap.

Smiling down at her, he had taken her left hand and brought it palm side up to his lips where he placed a small kiss in the middle.

"What was that for?" Sara had questioned.

"Just because."

"Oh, just because? Well, I like that," she had said, smiling as she reached for his hand again and linked their fingers together.

For the next couple of hours as _Sabrina_ ended and _Funny Face_ began, they had remained in their positions. Sara was asleep with her head in Grissom's lap. His left arm was loosely draped across her left side and his hand held hers.

It was the perfect afternoon until the phone rang.

It had startled Grissom, who had long since abandoned watching the movie in favor of watching Sara sleep, and the shrill ring of the telephone woke up Sara as well.

"MMMmmm…what?" Sara groaned sleepily as she opened her eyes.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Sit up for a moment and let me grab the phone. Then you can lay back down," Grissom told her.

Before the phone quit ringing, he managed to grab it and to answer, "Grissom," into the phone as Sara lay back down in her original position.

"Hey, Grissom."

It was Catherine.

"Hello, Catherine. How are you?"

"Thanks for asking. I'm doing okay. How's Sara?" the blonde asked.

"Well, she was sleeping. Your phone call just woke her up," Grissom told her.

"Oops. Sorry about that. I didn't mean to wake her up or anything. I was just calling for my daily report to see how things were going."

"We're both doing fine. Actually, we were just watching some old movies on the TCM channel."

"Oh. Well, that sounds like fun. I promise not to keep you long or anything. Before I let you go though I had a quick question I wanted to ask."

"Sure. What were you wanting to know?"

"Yesterday, the boys and I were talking in the break room at work, and I was telling them how Sara was doing since I had called you to ask. Greg said something about how he missed seeing Sara. Then we all agreed that not seeing the two of you at work was just weird. I saw both of you Tuesday, but the rest of the team haven't seen Sara since Monday and well we were just wanting to see if it would be all right if we came by Saturday for a while? Or if you thought that Sara was up to it and if you preferred, then maybe we could meet up at a restaurant. What do you think?" Catherine asked.

"That sounds okay to me, but let me ask Sara if she is up to company. Hold on a moment," Grissom said into the phone and then moved the phone away from his mouth.

"Yes? What was Catherine asking about?" Sara questioned.

"The boys are missing you and want to come by to see you. I just wanted to make sure you were up to some visitors."

"Yeah, of course, I would love to have some visitors! I miss the team as well," Sara said.

"You're bored with me already, huh?" Grissom joked and feigned hurt.

"No! That's not it…" Sara didn't catch on to the fact that Grissom was playing with her.

"Sara, I was kidding," Grissom quickly reassured her.

"That wasn't very nice of you," Sara said as she punched him lightly on his arm.

"Ouch," Grissom said, causing Sara to giggle and Catherine to chuckle as she could hear their conversation through the phone speaker. "Hey now…"

"Oops, sorry."

"Yeah, right. I'm sure you are," Grissom teased her. "Catherine also suggested an idea that maybe we could meet the team at a restaurant."

"Yeah, that sounds nice."

"Well, I'm not sure, however, that would be a good idea for you or not. You're still not feeling that great…" Grissom said.

"Please? For me?" Sara asked, pleading with her brown eyes. "Grissom, darling. I'm not an invalid. I'll be okay. Promise. Besides, you'll be there with me. If it makes you feel any better what if I promise to tell you the moment I start feeling bad?"

He wasn't completely sure if he could trust her to keep her promise that she would tell him if she felt bad. Still he did not want to refuse her, so he gave in and caved. "I guess so. If you're sure and if you promise to tell me when you feel bad. They can always come here, you know."

"Grissom, it will be fine. Besides, it will be nice for us to get out and get some fresh air and a change of scenery. You have been locked up in this house, too. I'm sure you want to get out as well. Go ahead and tell Catherine that we will be more than happy to join her and the boys tomorrow. I'm going to go use the restroom and stretch while you finish your conversation," Sara said as she got off the couch and headed toward their bedroom.

Grissom watched Sara walk away and spoke into the phone, "Catherine? Sorry about that. Are you still there?"

Laughing, Catherine responded, "You bet I am. That was entertaining to listen to. So would you rather get together tomorrow for lunch or for dinner before our shift starts?"

"Why don't we make it dinner? Sara wants to get out so I guess that means we will. What about meeting at the diner close to work? Susie's? Since it's close to the lab it will be good for all of you not to have to rush to work or anything," Grissom suggested.

"Susie's sounds fine to me. I'll let the boys know tonight. What about meeting around six o'clock?"

"Okay. Sounds good. We'll see you there at Susie's at six tomorrow. Have a good night at work."

As Grissom said his goodbye to Catherine, Sara re-entered the living room.

After he hung up the phone, Sara asked, "So are we all set to go tomorrow?"

"Yes. It's all worked out. We're going to meet Catherine and the team at Susie's before their shift. I thought meeting them for dinner would be better since it gives you all day to rest up."

"Well, I'm looking forward to dinner. Grissom, I really hope you don't think I'm tired of you. It's not that at all. I just miss the team. I'm excited to see everyone again. It's been a few days. Plus, as much as I love lounging around, I feel so unproductive," Sara said truthfully.

"Honey, you were brutally attacked. You were left lying on a sidewalk. Don't pretend that you still aren't in pain. When you don't think I'm watching you, I see you wince in pain. Then there is the whole memory loss thing. You just need to take it easy," Grissom told her as he got up from the couch and walked over to stand in front of Sara.

"I know. I know. It's just that I feel so helpless," Sara said, frustrated. "I mean I'm fine… well, for the most part. It's just that I cannot remember two years of my life. I haven't had a single memory come back to me. I'm trying to remain positive. I really am. I'm trying to be optimistic and believe that my memory will fully return. But God what if it doesn't? What then?" Sara asked as a few tears leaked from her brown eyes.

Grissom immediately enveloped Sara in his arms to comfort her.

"Sweetheart, it will be okay," he murmured as he stroked her back, trying to comfort and to soothe her.

"How do you know that for sure? You cannot promise me that," Sara said as she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding onto Grissom as if he was her lifesaver and she was in the middle of a storm in the ocean.

"Well, I can promise you that with whatever happens I will be here for you. I promise that. I'll take care of you. It will be all right." Changing the subject, Grissom said, "Besides, we're missing our movie marathon. Let's quit worrying about the things we have no control over, okay? I think _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ is about to start."

"Okay. Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks. Sorry about getting emotional. I blame the meds. I'm not usually like that…I don't think."

"Don't feel like you have to apologize to me, Sara. You do not need to ever worry about hiding your feelings from me. Okay?" He continued, trying to keep the subject light, "Would you like something to eat or snack on while we watch the movie?"

"Um, what about some popcorn? Do we have any?"

Recalling that he had seen some in the pantry and deducing that Catherine had bought it, Grissom said, "Yes, we do have popcorn. One bowl of movie popcorn for you is coming right up. Go get comfortable on the couch again, and I'll be right back."

Grissom headed into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with the promised bowl of popcorn and a couple of drinks just as the opening credits for _Breakfast at Tiffany's _began rolling.

"Perfect timing," he said as he set their two drinks on the table and handing the bowl to Sara. He then sat down next to Sara with only a couple inches separating them this time.

They both settled back against the couch to enjoy the movie.

Sara held the bowl of popcorn and snuggled against Grissom's side. Grissom's arm was draped across her on the back of the couch.

When they both reached into the bowl to grab some popcorn and their fingers touched for the first time, they both withdrew their hands immediately.

"Sorry," they said simultaneously.

Then they grinned at each other, thinking that they were silly to apologize to the other.

"After all we are married," Sara thought.

"After all, we are supposed to be married," Grissom thought.

Together they sat and watched the movie while sharing popcorn and smiles.

_xxx_

"Are you coming to bed?" Sara asked as she sat back up on the couch. After dinner, she had stretched back out on the couch.

It was almost ten o'clock.

"I think I'll stay up a little while longer and watch the news. Why don't you head to bed, and I'll be in there later?" Grissom suggested.

Trying to hide her disappointment, Sara said, "Okay. Don't stay up too late."

Grissom stood as Sara got up from the couch and gave her a quick goodnight kiss –on the lips.

"Goodnight, honey. Do you need anything or any help?"

"No, I think I can manage. Thanks. Goodnight," Sara said as she headed toward their bedroom.

Grissom retook his seat and breathed out heavily. He could tell Sara was a bit upset that he had wanted to stay up. He didn't really care to watch the news. He just used that as an excuse not to go to bed just yet. He figured that it would be better for him to slip into bed after Sara had fallen asleep. He was trying to keep things as platonic as he could…

* * *

A/N3: I'm headed to work so you know what? Make my night better and drop me a review and let me know if you liked or hated the chapter. And I'll send you a sneak peek for Ch. 17 (I should be able to get back to you quickly on the sneak peek this time)! Thanks for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

A/N1: I want to start out by saying that I think I'm not deserving of all the love that I have received for this story. However, I do value all the kind words and reviews that people have sent to me. It does mean a lot. Last chapter (which I thought was my worst) everyone was so sweet and nice in their reviews, and I just wanted to say that I appreciated it so much. I also need to say thanks to Grace (**graciebutterfliedgsr**) for the beta.

A/N2: Further, I apologize for the slight delay in updating. I'm under the weather (again). I have another annoying sinus head cold thing because the pressure in my head is monstrous (again, I'm wishing that my head would just explode). The good news is that while waiting for Grace to beta this chapter I wrote a bit for Ch. 18 so I hope that I can still manage to update the next chapter in a timely manner.

A/N3: I must say that due to **ishotsherlock** and **dreamsand** the whole thing with the Grissom/Gil thing was written in because I kind of forgot to write it in earlier (oops). I have a mental (and written) list of things that I want to happen in the story, and the whole name calling thing just slipped through the cracks. So thanks to the two of them I had to figure out a way to fix my mistake so therefore I came up with the dinner with the team idea. I will also say I am much happier with this chapter. I love writing Greg (he's so fun)! And the last scene is one of my favorites...I hope you enjoy it (it's my longest chapter thus far).

Disclaimer: As I have stated previously, I do not claim ownership of CSI or its characters. Let's all cry on the count of three, people. I also claim no ownership of the song, _Follow the Yellow-Brick Road_ (I do believe that is the official name) or the quote from the movie, _Gone with the Wind_.

* * *

"So are you ready to go now?" Sara asked impatiently as she paced their bedroom. Grissom was sitting on their bed and had just finished putting on his shoes.

Since she had woken up for the day at eleven (it was nice to sleep in), she had been both excited and anxious about their dinner plans for the evening.

"Yes, honey. I'm ready. We can go now if you want. We'll probably arrive early though since it's barely after five now," Grissom told her.

"I guess we can wait a while longer. I'm just kind of hungry and, well, we could always arrive early to save a booth for everyone, you know. It could be crowded. Do you know if Brass is going to be there, too? I miss seeing him," Sara said, jumping from topic to topic. She knew that she was babbling a bit, but she could not stop herself. She was literally a bundle of nervous energy.

She was looking forward to having dinner and to seeing her friends, but she was kind of anxious as well. She still did not have any recollection of two years of her life. She had this gap –this huge gap in her memory. She wanted to see her friends. She did. She knew that it might sound crazy but she was kind of jealous of them. They knew more about her life with Grissom than she did. It just didn't feel fair. She hadn't asked Grissom what the team had thought or said when they had found out that they were dating. When had they told them? Had the team been supportive from the beginning or had they been shocked? Had they thought that she was good enough for Grissom? She, honestly, did not know. And she really wasn't sure if Grissom would tell her if the team had a problem with the two of them being together or not. They were all friends so she really did think that, in the end, they would have all been happy for her and Grissom. She hoped so at least.

Grissom's voice broke into her rambling thoughts and brought her back to the present.

"…can go. Do you need to grab anything else? I'm not sure if Brass will be there or not. I'm sure he'll come if he can. Catherine just said that she would tell the boys."

Fifteen minutes later, they headed out the door.

Grissom reached the passenger side door first.

Sara stopped and asked, "You're going to let me drive?"

"No, but I was going to open the door for you," Grissom said.

"Oh. Thank you," Sara replied as she flashed a quick grin at him. She wasn't used to this kind of treatment… well she guessed she was…she just didn't remember it. Until her memory returned, it was going to be fun to "rediscover" her husband. She always assumed that he would be nothing short of the perfect gentleman, so it was nice to know that she had been right.

Thirty minutes later and ten minutes until six o'clock, they pulled up to Susie's Diner.

"Stay seated and I'll get the door for you." He had pulled into a close parking space so that Sara would not have to walk far.

Sara remained seated and waited to unbuckle her seatbelt until Grissom opened her door.

"Thanks, Grissom." Sara gave him her hand so that he could help her out of the vehicle without her jarring herself.

"You're more than welcome, dear," he replied, smiling back at her.

Leaning forward, Sara placed one hand on Grissom's chest while her other hand cupped his cheek. She then gave him a quick kiss on the mouth.

"Hey guys." A female voice spoke from behind, surprising them and causing them to turn around.

Sara spoke first. "Hi, Catherine."

_The blonde is everywhere!_ "Hello." Grissom tried not to dwell on or to be embarrassed about what Catherine may have witnessed.

Catherine, meanwhile, had seen the entire scene since she had pulled up moments before Grissom had. _This is going to be one interesting evening…_

"I think I saw Greg's car when I pulled up so he should be here. Let's not stand outside forever. We should go in because some of us have to go to work tonight," Catherine joked.

Grissom held the door open to the diner for the two ladies to enter first. He was a gentleman, after all.

_xxx_

As soon as Greg spotted the three of them entering Susie's, he leapt from the table and came barreling toward them, mindless of any and all waitresses and patrons that were in his path.

"Sara!" Greg exclaimed.

Grissom quickly placed himself in front of Sara so as to keep Greg from knocking her over with his exuberance. He had to protect her.

Greg realized a few seconds later his mistake. "Sorry, Sara. I wasn't trying to hurt you. I'm just happy to finally see you again!"

Sara stepped in front of Grissom. "It's okay. It's good to see you, too." She gave him a quick hug. You really couldn't help but like Greg. Stepping back, she looked at Grissom and grabbed his hand. "So do you have a booth for us, Greg?"

"Yeah, I have been here for ten minutes. I was too excited to stay home any longer. Follow me."

When they arrived at the booth that Greg had saved for them, Grissom slid in first and Sara took the seat next to him while Greg and Catherine shared the booth on the opposite side.

A waitress arrived at their table. "Hi, my name is Emma and I'll be your waitress today. What can I get started for you to drink?"

They each gave their drink order to the waitress, and Catherine told her that they were waiting for a few others to show up as well.

"Okay, that's fine. I'll be right back."

Emma returned a few moments later with their drinks just as Nick and Warrick arrived at the diner.

Before she left, she took their beverage orders as well and then hurried off to get their drinks for them.

Warrick slid into the booth next to Catherine while Nick borrowed a chair from a nearby table and made himself head of the table. He hadn't wanted to crowd Sara or anything.

"It's really good to see you, Sara" Nick said.

"Thanks." She smiled at him. "It's nice to see all of you also. I miss seeing everyone at work on a daily basis."

"Well, we miss you at work. It's not the same without you and Grissom," Warrick responded.

"Do you have any idea when you think you might be able to return to work?" Catherine asked.

"If it was solely up to me, then I would already be back. But someone here is a bit overprotective…" Sara teased.

Grissom spoke up. "Hey now. We discussed it, actually. I thought that Sara should wait until her next doctor's appointment to see what he says."

"When's the appointment? It's coming up, right?" Greg was curious to know.

"It's Monday. Hopefully, the doctor will give me the go ahead to return to work soon!" She couldn't remember what her doctor's name was but she wasn't going to bring that up right now…

As Sara finished speaking, Brass arrived at the diner and headed toward the team's table.

"Hey. Sorry I'm late. Sara, it's great to see you out of that hospital bed. You're looking good." Brass took the seat in the empty space beside Sara.

"Thanks. I'm definitely glad that I am finally out of the hospital. I'm pretty sure that if my doctor hadn't released me to go home Tuesday that I would have started devising an escape route!" Everyone at the table laughed.

Emma had noticed that another person had arrived so she came and took his drink order. She returned a moment later with Brass' drink and asked, "Is everyone ready to order?"

"If everyone else is ready, then I'll just go last. By the time, she takes all of your orders I'll have decided," Brass said.

"Okay. I think I'll take a cheeseburger. No, make that a double cheeseburger with everything on it. And I want a large side order of chili cheese fries and a large chocolate milkshake," Greg said.

"Do you think that you ordered enough food, Greg?" Catherine asked. She was a bit miffed that Greg could eat like that and not gain a pound.

"Hey, I'm a growing boy…I need my nutrition!"

Catherine just shook her head and gave the waitress her order.

The rest of the team gave the waitress their food orders with Brass ordering last.

"Okay, I'll go place your order. It will be ready shortly. Let me know if you need any refills," Emma said before she walked away.

"So how are you feeling today, Sara?" Brass inquired.

"I'm doing okay. Just taking it one day at a time kind of thing. I'm still a bit banged up but each day it seems to be getting better. I have had some bad headaches, but I guess that's sort of to be expected under the circumstances."

"Grissom is taking good care of you, right?"

Sara turned toward the man in question and smiled at him as she linked their hands together under the table. "Yes, he's taking the best of care with me. He's doing all the cooking. And he's making sure I take all my medicine because I'm having a bit of trouble remembering. He's great. I could not ask for a better husband." She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, surprising him and everyone at the table.

Nick spoke up first. It was definitely interesting to see Sara kiss Grissom. "Well, um, that's good."

"So anyway how's work?" Sara asked, oblivious to it all.

"Work is good," Warrick replied. He was happy with the topic change.

"We're putting away the bad guys. The usual. All in a day's work," Nick added.

"So when are you coming back, Grissom? Are you waiting for Sara to return as well? Ecklie's been a pain lately about your time off," Greg said.

Sara immediately looked at Grissom. "I was worried that this was going to happen. You're going to get in trouble because of me. You have to go back to work…"

"Sara, honey. Don't worry. Okay? I'm not worried about Ecklie. As for going back to work, I'm going to wait to make that decision after I see what Dr. Johns says Monday."

Everyone appeared satisfied with his answer.

A few minutes later, Emma arrived with their food. "Anyone need anything else before I go?"

"No, everything looks great. Thanks," Brass told her before she left to let them eat.

Seeing that Sara still looked a bit upset, Greg decided a subject change was in order. "Sara, did I ever tell you the joke about what happens when a cow jumps over…"

After Greg told her the joke, she ended up laughing at his insane sense of humor and forgot all about being upset.

Over the next half hour as they ate, the team filled Grissom and Sara on some of the more interesting cases that they had while they were gone.

"Well, I'm glad that you caught him," Sara said. Listening to the team talk about work, it made her realize that she really did miss the lab. She really hoped that she would be allowed back to work soon.

"So while we've been hard at work what have you been up to?" Greg asked.

"Mainly, I have just been resting. Yesterday, we watched a marathon of Audrey Hepburn movies. I always love watching the classics," Sara replied.

"I think that the true classic of all time has to be _The Godfather_," Brass stated.

"I completely disagree with you. It's _Gone with the Wind_! Everyone knows the line, 'Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.' It's a true classic," Catherine argued.

For the next few minutes, the team began a spirited debate over what they considered to be the number one classic of all time.

"Well, what about _The Wizard of Oz_?" Greg suggested.

"You cannot be serious! Can you?" Warrick asked.

"Actually, it is number six on the American Film Institute's list," Grissom interjected.

"See there! HAH," Greg said.

"Well, I don't care. I hate that movie. The munchkins gave me the creeps when I was a little kid, especially when they sang," Nick confessed. He shuddered at the thought of them.

"I bet he's still scared…" Greg thought to himself. Being mischievous, he started singing.

_Follow the yellow-brick road, follow the yellow-brick road  
Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow the yellow-brick road  
Follow the yellow-brick, follow the yellow-brick  
Follow the yellow-brick road_

_You're off to see the Wizard; the Wonderful Wizard of Oz  
You'll find he is a Whiz of a Wiz if ever a Wiz there was_

"Stop!" Nick hissed, covering his ears. "Seriously, man… that's cold."

Warrick had to laugh. Greg continued for a few moments longer but stopped when Nick got up from his chair. "Sorry. Didn't realize that you were still scared of the big bad munchkins!"

"Laugh all you want, but they _are_ scary," Nick emphasized again.

"Excuse me for a moment. I'll be right back," Grissom said as he got up and headed to the restroom.

"Now that the boss man is gone, we can get to the down and dirty details…" Greg said.

Sara looked at him, quizzically.

"So things are going okay?" Catherine asked –she wanted to see what Sara said. "Have you remembered anything yet?"

"No, I haven't. And, to be honest, it's so frustrating. Grissom told me…" Sara began.

Greg interrupted, without really thinking, "So you're still calling him Grissom?"

Sara was too taken back by Greg's unexpected question that she didn't notice his inaudible "Ouch," as Catherine stepped on his foot under the table and then glared at him.

Greg quickly mouthed an apology to Catherine.

Snapping Sara's attention back, Nick asked, "Grissom told you what?"

"Oh, um…he just told me to try to not worry about things I have zero control over."

"Sounds like good advice," Brass said.

A few minutes later, Grissom returned to the table and sat down again.

Emma arrived again as they all finished their meals. "How do you want me to do the check? Will it be all together or separate?"

Catherine answered, "Separate," because she was so used to answering that way. Then she caught Grissom's eye and continued, "We're all separate except for the two of them," and pointed to Grissom and Sara.

"Must be nice having a free meal…" Greg spoke again without thinking of what he was saying.

This time it was Grissom who stepped on his foot.

"Oww!" This time Greg wasn't able to hold back his exclamation of pain.

"What's wrong?" Sara asked, concerned.

"Oh. Oh, it's nothing. Just a, uh, cramp in my foot. My toes are curling up…" _I need to watch what I'm saying otherwise I'm not going to be able to walk anymore…and I will have to get crutches. Oooh, that could be fun actually…_

Emma returned with their checks and handed everyone their bill, except for Sara.

"Do you want me to pay for my meal?" Sara asked.

Grissom looked at her, in horror, as if he was appalled by her suggestion. "I don't expect you to pay, Sara."

_Okay… so that's a negative._ "Thanks for dinner then."

After everyone paid their bill and left the appropriate amount for a tip, they headed out of the restaurant.

"It was great seeing all of you again. Thanks for the invite," Sara said as they stepped out into the parking lot at Susie's.

Everyone agreed and gave Sara a hug, all careful not to squeeze her too hard.

"Get some rest, okay?" Brass requested.

"Yeah, take it easy," Greg seconded.

"Take care of our girl, Grissom," Nick added.

Sara smiled at her friends' concern for her. It was nice that they cared so much about her.

"I will. I promise." Grissom stood beside Sara with an arm around her waist.

"I'm going to call you Monday before work to see how your doctor appointment went so expect that phone call," Catherine warned.

"Okay." Sara laughed and continued, "That's fine. Thanks."

The team finished saying their goodbyes and headed toward their respective vehicles.

When they arrived at his vehicle, Grissom opened the passenger side door for Sara and shut it behind her after she climbed in and buckled her seat belt.

He got into the driver's seat of his Denali and pulled out of the parking lot to head back home.

"Did you have a good time?" Grissom asked as he glanced at Sara.

"Yes, I did. It was great seeing everyone. Thanks for agreeing to go."

"Good. I'm glad. And it wasn't that I didn't want to go. It was just that I was worried that you might not be up to it."

"Well, I'm glad we went," Sara said and then lapsed into silence.

Grissom could tell that Sara was a bit distracted. From what or by what he wasn't really sure. He decided to see if she would say something, and if not, then…

The ride home remained silent.

Grissom pulled into their driveway and parked. Again, he opened the door for Sara.

Sara apparently was not going to say if something was bothering her.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked as he helped her out.

"Oh. Um, hey did you know the earliest known citation for that saying was in 1546 and was found in John Heywood's collections of proverbs?" Sara asked.

They arrived at the front door.

"Yes, I do believe that I have read that somewhere. Also although it's the earliest citation of that phrase they do not believe Heywood coined –pardon the pun –the saying himself." Grissom unlocked the door and ushered Sara in. Finally, he asked, "Is there something bothering you? You were quiet in the car ride home."

Something _was_ bothering her. Greg had made that offhand comment about her still calling Grissom by his last name and that had made her start thinking._ Do I not call him by his first name now? _She hadn't thought anything about it until Greg had made that remark. She felt a bit silly that she hadn't realized herself that it was kind of weird to call her husband by his last name, which now happened to be hers as well.

_Might as well say something since Grissom probably won't give up too easily until I tell him…_

"Well, it's really not a big deal or anything. It was just something Greg said at the diner when you were gone. He was just like are you still calling him Grissom? And, yeah, it just made me start to wonder. I don't still call you Grissom, do I? Surely, I didn't call you Grissom the whole time we were dating, right? And now my last name is the same as yours…" Sara trailed off, unsure what else to say.

"Oh. Is that all?" He was so relieved. He had been worried that it was something bigger. _Much _bigger. Like she had remembered something. "Yeah, when we started dating…I asked you to call me Gil." Thinking some more, he continued, "Actually, you called me by my full first name sometimes as well." No one else but his mother had ever called him Gilbert. Despite that and the fact that he had been teased as a kid over his name, he wanted Sara to call him Gilbert. He wouldn't mind hearing her call him by his full first name. Not at all…

"Okay. Good. Sorry. I told you it wasn't that big of a deal. It was just bothering me after I started thinking about it."

"It's fine, Sara. I'm glad that we solved that mini-crisis."

For the next hour, the two of them just chilled until Sara began yawning.

"I know it's only nine thirty, but I'm so tired."

"Well, maybe you should head to bed. Tomorrow will probably be a long day at the doctor's for you."

"Are you coming, too?"

"No. I'm not tired. I seem to have gotten my second wind or something. I'll probably stay up a while longer and read some forensic journals." He was still trying to avoid going to bed at the same time as Sara.

"I could stay up longer I guess…"

"No, it's okay. Sara, you _need_ your rest. I'll be in there later, promise. Goodnight, honey." Grissom got up from the couch where he had been sitting and gave Sara a goodnight kiss that might have lasted a few seconds longer than it technically should have.

Sara wanted Grissom to go to bed with her, but she was tired so she gave up.

"Goodnight, Gilbert," she said, smiling, as she turned and sashayed to their bedroom.

_xxx_

_Monday morning…_

Grissom slowly awakened and found Sara curled against him. He was getting used to it, and he found that he liked it. A lot.

He took a quick glance at the bedside clock. It was fifteen after nine in the morning. Sara's doctor's appointment was at eleven. _We need to get up and moving…but the bed was so warm and Sara was just so lovely…_

He rolled to his side to enjoy looking at Sara before he woke her up. He enjoyed watching her sleep. She looked so peaceful. So beautiful.

"Sara. Honey. It's time to get up," he whispered softly.

"Mmm. Shhh…I'm trying to sleep," Sara said. Her voice was groggy with sleep.

"I would let you sleep. I really would, but your doctor's appointment is today."

Sara slowly opened one eye and then the other.

"I don't want to go. I hate doctors." Her memory had not returned. Not even one small flashback. She didn't want to go to the doctor because she was scared to hear what he would say or think.

"You have to go. It's important that Dr. Johns sees you for your checkup."

"Don't make me go, please?" Sara begged, softly.

Understanding finally dawned on Grissom. "Sara, it will be okay. I know you're worried about the fact that you haven't remembered anything. That doesn't mean that your memory will stay gone forever. I'm sure Dr. Johns will agree and say the same thing. Okay?"

"Okay. Fine. I'll go. As long as I have you there with me then I'll be okay."

"There's no where else I would rather be than with you," Grissom said as he brushed away a strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear, causing Sara to smile at him. He was completely honest when he said that. He wouldn't want to be anywhere but with Sara.

They were still in bed, facing each other.

"Why don't you go take a shower and start getting dressed while I make some breakfast for the two of us? Then I'll grab a quick shower. We probably should leave no later than a quarter after ten. It's always good to get there early since you'll need to fill out paperwork and all that," Grissom said as he got up from the bed. Sara followed suit.

Standing at the door to the master bathroom, Sara asked, "Why don't you join me for my morning shower?"

Grissom's mind blanked at the thought of him and Sara in the shower. Together. Naked. With water falling from Sara's…

_Oh boy. Shit. Think of something else. Quickly! Twelve times twelve is one hundred forty-four. Twelve times thirteen… oh wait, she's waiting for an answer._

Sara had a huge grin on her face as if she knew exactly where his mind had gone.

Clearing his throat, he said, "As interesting as your suggestion sounds, I'm afraid that if I took you up on your offer, then we would be very, very late to your doctor's appointment. That is if we even made it out of the house…" Grissom half said the last part to himself. His mind was still halfway in the shower…

Sara appeared satisfied (well satisfied enough) with his answer because she shrugged and headed into the bathroom. She hadn't shut the door behind her so he had the perfect view as Sara began to take off her pajamas, which was one of his shirts that she had borrowed. Her back was to him, but still –damn, she was temptation.

_It's time to go…_

"I'm going to go get started on breakfast," he told Sara as he headed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. A much safer place to be at the moment –well until Sara walks in here and tempts me again…

He had just finished pouring two glasses of orange juice and placing two veggie omelets and hash browns onto two plates when Sara walked into the kitchen, fresh from her morning shower.

She was wearing some jeans and a blue t-shirt. Her hair was still damp and was starting to curl. _She looked so damn edible…_

"You know what I realized while I was in the shower?" Sara asked, breaking the silence.

_Oh, God. Not the shower again. Umm… how to answer that?_

"We need some more cleaning stuff for the shower?" Grissom asked, hopefully.

Sara couldn't help but laugh at him. "No. I realized that I didn't get my good morning kiss," she said, pouting prettily. "I'm feeling a bit cheated…"

* * *

A/N4: By now, you know the drill, right? Review and I'll send you a sneak peek of Ch. 18, which happens to pick up right where Ch. 17 leaves off… Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	18. Chapter 18

A/N1: Once again, I want to begin by saying thank you so much to everyone who is reading this story and reviewing. Everyone's support is greatly appreciated. I would also like to thank my lovely beta, Grace (**graciebutterfliedgsr**), for all her help.

A/N2: So about this chapter, I do hope you enjoy it (this is now my longest chapter). I was going to cut the scene off before the "later that evening," but Grace liked the scene and she said cliffhangers (hah) were good, so blame her. Just kidding. Do not give Grace a hard time. Please? Okay, now that's settled. Moving on, I did want to say that this chapter (not the first scene though lol) is dedicated to my mom, who is absolutely amazing. Next, Jen -you know that you're my GSRBFF...so I hope you appreciate my little "shoutout" to you...

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or any its characters. I do own several empty Kleenex boxes ...and a very messy room at the moment.

* * *

"Well, we can't have you feeling cheated now, can we?" Grissom's voice was soft and husky. Mere seconds before, Sara had mentioned the lack of a good morning kiss. Slowly, he advanced toward her, forcing Sara to back up until she could move no further. Her back was pressed against the hard granite of the kitchen counter. Grissom placed his muscular arms on each side of Sara, effectively boxing her in.

She was trapped. Licking her lips, she realized that she liked it. Quite a bit, actually.

"Gil." Her eyes locked with his. She could read the desire in his eyes, and she shivered at the intensity that she saw there. It both frightened and excited her.

"Shhh…" He brought his lips down toward her face and kissed her. Once. Twice. Three times. It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. He had to have more. More of her. Two thoughts were running through his mind at once. First, he wasn't sure that even if he spent the rest of his life kissing her that he could ever be satisfied, and secondly, if he could drown in Sara's kisses, then he would die a happy man.

He changed the angle of his kiss, and Sara wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing him closer.

He could still smell her body wash on her skin. The scent of hazelnut coffee filled his nostrils and drove him wild. In his mind, he was picturing Sara in the shower with a washcloth, soaping up and spending a little extra time in certain places…

The kiss became more passionate, and Grissom soon forgot that they were standing in his kitchen.

"Mmm…let's…let's take this to the bedroom. Screw the doctor's appointment," Sara managed to say when he turned his attention to her neck to place kisses along her jaw line.

The mention of the doctor snapped Grissom out of his sexual haze, and he slowly disentangled himself from Sara and stepped away.

"Wait. What…?" Sara asked. Her lips were still swollen from his kisses.

_She was walking temptation. That's what she was. She needed a warning sign labeled to her saying, "Danger to A Man's Sanity." But DAMN what a way to go…_

"I, uh, should go grab that shower. Like now." He was having a hard time breathing, amongst other things.

"What about breakfast?"

"Oh, yeah… you should eat it." Not to mention, he also was having a difficult time thinking coherently.

Sara grinned. "No. I meant aren't you going to eat breakfast as well?"

"Um, no. No. Actually, I'm not that hungry anymore," Grissom said as he began backing out of the kitchen.

"Well, I bet I do know what you're hungry for…" Sara said, saucily.

He could not think of a good way to answer that so he wisely chose to ignore her words as he headed toward the bathroom. Sara's laughter followed him into the hallway.

When he reached the master bath, Grissom shut the door and breathed out a huge sigh of relief.

_That was close. Too close. I'm not sure how I'm going to keep resisting her… it was getting harder and harder._ Grissom hoarsely laughed out loud at his particular choice of words.

Switching on the shower faucet, he quickly shed his clothes and stepped under the water spray.

_Fuck._ It still smelled like coffee and cream. The sweet aroma surrounded him, and unbidden images of Sara in the shower once again came into his mind.

_Sometimes having a great visual imagination was not a good thing…_

Groaning in frustration, he contemplated briefly of taking matters into his own hands, so to speak. But he knew that would not be nearly as satisfying as having Sara. "That was not going to happen," he reminded himself.

"Damn it," he thought as he flipped the shower knob toward cold. As the icy cold spray hit him, Grissom reverted back to his elementary school days and began reciting his timetables.

_xxx _

_In the waiting room at the doctor's…_

They had arrived fifteen minutes before Sara's scheduled appointment time, which was good considering the large amount of paperwork that had to be filled out.

Sara had already completed, with some help from Grissom, and returned the paperwork to the receptionist at the front desk.

Sitting back down again, she said, "I really do not want to be here."

"I know that you don't, honey, but it will be all right." Grissom took Sara's hand in his to hold and to give her some comfort.

"Well, I hope that we don't have to wait long. These chairs are not that comfortable."

There were about a dozen people sitting in the waiting room. "It doesn't seem too crowded. As we came in, I noticed a sign that showed that Dr. Johns shares this office with two other physicians so I'm sure some of the people waiting are here to see different doctors. So we shouldn't have to wait long."

"I hope not. Otherwise, I vote we leave." She would rather be anywhere else but at the doctor's office.

Changing the subject, Grissom asked, "When they call you back to your room, would you like me to go with you or would you rather me wait out here?"

"I want you there with me. Don't leave me, okay?" She was already nervous about the appointment so she knew that she did not want to be alone.

"Okay. I just wasn't sure what you would be most comfortable with. I'll definitely come with you. Don't worry."

Less than fifteen minutes later, a nurse called Sara's name out loud. "Mrs. Grissom?"

"That's me." Sara smiled. She wasn't quite used to her new last name, but she thought that she could get used to it since it meant that she was married to the man that she loved.

Together, Grissom and Sara stood and walked over to where the nurse was standing, holding a door open.

"Hi. My name is Jen. I'm Dr. Johns' nurse. How are you today?" the nurse asked as she led them through the hallways and into a room.

"I'm good. Thanks," Sara replied back.

"I need to check your vitals –temperature, blood pressure, weight, and all that good stuff. Then I'll take both of you to your exam room to wait for the doctor," Jen said.

After checking Sara's temperature and pulse and determining that both were normal, the nurse placed the blood pressure cuff on Sara's upper left arm.

A few seconds later, Jen frowned. "Hmmm. Your BP is 140/89. I read in the notes that at the hospital your blood pressure was high as well. It's lower than it was, but still…" She made a few marks in Sara's charts. "Okay, I just need to weigh you and we'll be done here. Take off your shoes, please."

Sara did as requested. "Gil, would you turn around?"

"What… why?"

"I'm not going to step on the scale with you watching."

Jen laughed. "I would be the same way with my husband."

Grissom just shook his head and turned around. _Women…_

"Okay. Good. Thanks," Jen said as she recorded the number in her chart.

"Is it safe to turn back around now?" Grissom questioned.

"Yes, dear. You can," she replied as she stepped off the scale and slipped her shoes back on.

"Okay. I'll show you to the exam room where you can wait for Dr. Johns to come in." Jen headed out of the room and they followed behind her.

They were placed in exam room 7A.

"Thank you," Sara said.

"You're welcome. You don't need to worry about changing into a gown or anything today. Lucky you. Anyway, Dr. Johns will hopefully be in here shortly," Jen said before she shut the door, giving them privacy.

"So we wait some more."

"Yes, we wait," Grissom agreed.

Twenty minutes later, Dr. Johns knocked on the door and entered the room. "Sorry about the delay. It has been one of those days already, and it's not even twelve o'clock." He took a seat at the desk. "It is good to see you both again. Sara, how are you doing?"

"I am much better than I was. Each day, I'm feeling stronger."

"That's good to hear." He flipped open her chart and skimmed through some of the pages. "Have you been taking all of your medicines on time like you're supposed to?"

"Yes. Gil is helping to make sure I'm taking everything correctly," she said as she glanced over and smiled briefly at him.

"I see that your blood pressure today is 140/89. It's better than it was, but I will want to keep monitoring it."

"Okay. That sounds good."

"Are your bruises healing? How are your ribs?" Dr. Johns questioned.

"Um, better. Gil isn't letting me lift anything heavy, and he's been doing all the cooking. He's been great," Sara answered.

"I'm just trying to take care of you…" Grissom said.

Dr. Johns smiled. "Well, that's good. You have needed to take it easy, Sara, and your husband knows that. Are you experiencing any other symptoms or side effects?"

"I have had some really bad headaches but thankfully the medicine seems to help with those." She wasn't sure how much more to say. She hadn't really mentioned to Gil that she had been having a bit of trouble with concentrating. She was glad that she had already seen all those Hepburn movies because during some parts of the movies her mind had completely wondered off. She continued, "And, well, I have had some trouble concentrating –but not like a lot of trouble. Just a minor case here and there…and it has gotten better."

"Okay. Well, both of those are to be expected. As long as both the headaches and the concentration problems keep getting better then I don't think you should worry. Now, let me take a quick listen to you."

Sara began to stand up to move to the exam table, but Dr. Johns stopped her. "It's fine. You can stay seated. I won't make you move around more than necessary."

"Thanks," Sara said as she sat back down again.

The doctor listened to her for a few moments, requesting that she take deep breaths. "Everything sounds normal." After he placed his stethoscope back around his neck, he began, "So…"

This was the exact moment that Sara had been dreading. She knew what he was about to ask her. To keep her nerves from showing too much, she clasped her hands together. Grissom still sensed her anxiety and reached over to hold her hand. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, trying to convey in the action that he was there for her and that everything would be just fine.

Dr. Johns continued, "The big question of the day is have you regained any memories? Even if it was just a small flashback?"

"No. I haven't. I keep hoping that I would remember something, but it just hasn't happened yet," Sara replied, softly.

Grissom spoke up. "I know that because her memory hasn't returned it's been bothering Sara a lot. It's probably why her blood pressure is still high. I've tried to get Sara not to stress so much and I've told her that her memory still can return."

"Gil is right. I have been worried, but it's hard not to stress when you have two years of your life missing," Sara said.

"Sara, you're definitely not alone in feeling troubled –patients who have amnesia often experience that emotion. Your husband is right when he says that your memory can return. But you have suffered a major head trauma. I will admit that I hoped that being at home, around familiar things, might have triggered your memory. But it will just probably take some more time…"

Guilt coursed through Grissom. Maybe she would have remembered something if she had been at her own apartment. She had needed to be looked after and, well, there were things from her place that Catherine brought over to his townhouse. Maybe she just needed more time… "Well, um, actually we have only lived at our new house for about six months."

"Okay, that could be a part of it. The house isn't as familiar to you. With retrograde amnesia, as I explained before, events that happened closet to the accident –i.e. you moving into your new house –will most likely be remembered last."

"So you believe that there is a good chance that my memory will return?" Sara asked.

"As much as I would love to say that I am certain that your memory will return, I can't. However, do not get discouraged. It's only been eleven days since you were attacked. Your brain needs to heal, and that may take some time. I think with time you will begin remembering."

Sara slowly exhaled the breath that she hadn't been aware that she had been holding. She could live with the doctor's answer. She would have loved a definite yes, but he did sound optimistic so that was good. She was relieved. She had one more question that she really wanted to ask. "When do you think that I can return to work?"

"Sara, maybe you should wait a while longer before you think about going back," Grissom protested.

"Let's just see what Dr. Johns thinks," Sara responded back as she looked towards the doctor waiting for his reply.

"Well, I'm sure you're eager to get back to work. I know that you're a CSI, and I'm confident that you are great at your job. You do appear to be recovering, but I really would prefer you to wait until next week, at least, to return to work. When you return to work, no heavy lifting for a while, obviously. Also I do not want you to overexert yourself. I know that you may feel that you have a lot of energy right now. Trust me when I tell you that when you begin to do anything physical you will find yourself tiring. I just want you to take it easy even when you return to work." Looking at Grissom, he continued, "As both her supervisor and her husband, I expect that you will be sure to look after and take care of her?"

"Yes. You don't even have to ask. That's a promise," Grissom replied.

"Do you have any more questions?" Dr. Johns asked as he closed Sara's charts.

"No. I don't think so," Sara answered.

"Okay. Good. Before you leave today, I want to have some blood taken…"

Sara interrupted before he finished. "Blood? What for?"

"I just want to check to see if your red and white blood counts are normal. Check a couple other things –just to make sure everything is fine. Also I want you to schedule another appointment at the front desk before you leave. Let's say in about two weeks, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Sure," Sara replied, still thinking of having to have blood taken.

"I'm going to call down and have someone to come draw your blood. It should only take a few moments. It was good to see both of you again. Goodbye," the doctor said, standing at the door to the exam room.

"Bye. Thanks," Grissom told Dr. Johns before he left.

"Sara, it will be okay." He could tell she was upset about having to have blood work done.

"Yeah. Well, it's easy for you to say since you're not the one getting jabbed with a needle!" Sara said, glaring a bit at him. She knew that it wasn't his fault, but she couldn't help herself.

"Honey, they stuck you at the hospital with an IV…" he began.

"Yeah, and I was unconscious at the time! It's _my_ blood, damn it! I should be able to refuse…" She knew that she was starting to sound whiny, which was something she hated. Again, she couldn't help it. "I hate needles. I always have and always will."

"I don't think anyone really likes them…"

A knock at the door kept Grissom from offering his next words of comfort. A young woman opened the door and came in. Shutting the door back behind her, she said, "Hi. I'm Cheryl. Dr. Johns told me to get some blood from you, Sara."

"Vampire," Sara mumbled darkly under her breath.

"Sara…" Grissom said.

Cheryl smiled. She was definitely used to not feeling welcomed. "What's your DOB?"

"September 16, 1971," Sara answered.

After looking at her paperwork to make sure the date of birth matched the records, Cheryl asked, "Which arm would you like me to draw the blood from?"

Sara crossed her arms. "How long have you been sticking people?" She didn't want an amateur.

"Well, actually, you're my first live one…" she answered, tongue in cheek.

Sara's eyes widened and she stood up. "That's it! She is not getting near me with a needle, Gil!"

"Sara, I'm pretty sure she was joking…" Grissom began.

"I was kidding. I promise. I was just trying to lighten the mood. I've done this hundreds of times," Cheryl reassured her. "At lot of people have told me that I'm very good at what I do."

Sara sat back down due in part to Grissom's prodding. "I'm _so_ not happy about this."

Grissom definitely wasn't used to seeing this side of Sara. It was interesting and kind of endearing. "If you let Cheryl take your blood, then…um, I'll buy you whatever you want," he finished since he wasn't sure what to promise.

"Hmm…anything?" He nodded his head in the affirmative. Cheryl just looked on, amused. "What about any favor I wanted…?" she asked.

"Okay, sure. That's fine," he agreed without thinking much about it.

"Okay, good. Do your vampire thing," Sara told Cheryl as she stuck out her left arm.

As Cheryl searched Sara's arm for a good vein, Grissom said, "Sara, why don't you just look at me. Don't worry about what she may or may not be doing. Just breathe in and out with me. Okay?" he said, as he held her right hand. The breathing thing was something his mom would do with him when he was a little boy and had to have blood taken. Keeping focused on his mom and breathing in and out with her helped him not think about the needle that was about to be stuck in his arm.

"Okay."

Grissom looked over and saw that Cheryl had already wiped an area clean with alcohol and was getting ready to draw blood.

"Let's breathe." He slowly inhaled and slowly exhaled. Then he repeated. Sara did the same.

She was so focused on his eyes and breathing with him that it took her a few seconds to register the small prick of the needle piercing her skin. She turned to look. "That hurts."

"Honey, don't look. Come on…just breathe with me."

Cheryl glanced up briefly and asked, "How long?

"Hmmmm?" Grissom said, distracted. He was trying to keep Sara calm.

"How long have the two of you been married?" she clarified.

"Six months," he answered, automatically. _Was it a bad sign that he was starting to believe his lie? Was it a bad thing that he kept wishing that it was really true?_

Cheryl smiled and finished her task. She placed a Scooby-Doo band-aid on Sara's arm. "Sorry, that's all I have left. Well, that and Barney. I didn't think you would want a purple dinosaur on your arm. Anyway, thanks for not giving me too hard of a time…"

Sara smiled back. "Sorry. I just have this huge aversion to sharp pointy objects being stuck in me."

"That's okay. It's understandable. I'll tell you a secret. I'm the same way. I can stick people all day, and it doesn't bother me. When it comes to me having to get blood taken, I'm a complete baby about it. Anyway, it was nice meeting the both of you. Have a good rest of the day. And, by the way, before you leave just check in with the receptionist at the front to schedule your follow-up appointment," Cheryl said as she left the room, leaving the door open.

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" Grissom asked as he placed a hand on Sara's lower back, following her out.

Sara stopped just outside the exam room door. "Yes, it was. It hurts." She refused to admit that she might have overreacted a bit.

"Poor baby. Would you like me to kiss it to make it better?" Grissom teasingly asked.

"Yes, actually that sounds nice."

He carefully lifted her left arm and placed a gentle kiss near her band aide. "Better?"

"Hmmm…" Sara appeared to be thinking deeply, tapping her right index finger on her bottom lip. "I think that it hurts right here, too," she said keeping her finger on her lips.

She grinned as he moved her finger away and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

"Thanks, honey. _Now_ I feel better."

"Come on. Let's go make your next doctor appointment before you get me into trouble," Grissom said, leading the way out to the waiting room and to the receptionist's desk.

_xxx_

Unbeknownst to both Grissom and Sara, Jen and Cheryl had witnessed their entire exchange outside the exam room door. As the couple walked away, both women looked at each other and sighed heavily.

"They are so cute together," Jen said.

"Yeah, they are. You should have seen him in there with her when I was taking blood. I mean, seriously, he is something else. She is so lucky to have him. If I ever found a man that looked at me the way that he looks at her, then I would snap him up in a heartbeat. A man like that …well, it gives me hope that there are some decent men out there," Cheryl said.

"Well, all I have to say is can I have him? Please? I would keep him locked up in my closet so that he could never escape…" Jen fantasized out loud.

Cheryl laughed. "Sounds like a plan… can I come over and borrow him sometimes? But wait…don't you have a husband and two kids, girl?"

"And your point is…?"

"Yeah, true. Well, hun, I need to go and do my Dracula thing some more. I'll see you around."

_xxx_

_Later that evening…_

They had just finished a late supper, since neither of them was very hungry after eating a large lunch. After Sara's doctor's appointment, Grissom had taken her to one of his favorite little Italian restaurants that he had stumbled upon one day. The outside did not look like much, but the food was amazing. It was one of Las Vegas' best-kept secrets, in his opinion.

Now, they were in the living room. Sara was sprawled out on the couch. Once again, she was using his lap as a pillow to rest her head. They had the TV turned on, but it was just mainly background noise. Neither was paying much attention to the sounds from the television.

Grissom was toying with her hair. Sara had her eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of Grissom running his fingers lightly across her scalp and through her hair. It was soothing, and it was making her a bit sleepy.

"Gil," Sara spoke out loud, keeping her eyes closed for the moment.

"Hmmm. Yes?"

"I think that you should return to work tomorrow..."

"Wait…what? Sara…"

"You said you would consider going back to work after hearing what the doctor had to say."

"That doesn't mean that I intended to go back to work the next day, Sara. I need to think about it…" Grissom responded back.

"I just don't want you to get into trouble at work, especially since the reason you're taking time off is for me. I will feel responsible if something happens." She finally opened her eyes and saw Grissom's blue eyes staring down at her.

"Sara, it's not going to be a problem. Ecklie does not concern me."

"Well, maybe he should, Gil. Besides, the doctor said that I was improving so surely that means I can handle taking care of myself while you're gone. It's not like I'm planning on running a marathon or something while you're at work. I promise to just relax and rest."

"I don't know if I feel comfortable leaving you alone, Sara. What if something happens?" Grissom questioned.

"If I start having problems or something, then I will call you. Is that all right?"

"Are you sure about this? Wouldn't you feel better if I stayed off this week with you? I don't think that a few extra days off will make much of a difference, Sara."

"I would love for you to stay with me. I would, but I think that you're needed at work as well. Night shift has been short staffed for over a week. I think I'll be fine, Gil."

"Okay. I'll go back to work tomorrow. Probably. I have the right to change my mind…"

"Well, um, actually you kind of don't…" Sara began as she sat up on the couch.

"What do you mean?"

"When Catherine called earlier to check to see how my doctor's appointment went, you were busy cooking supper. And I, uh, asked if Ecklie had said anything more about you being absent. At first, it seemed like she wasn't going to tell me anything, but I could tell that something had been said. Apparently, Ecklie's been 'discreetly' making inquiries into trying to get you demoted since he's telling people that you're too busy taking care of me. I really don't think that Ecklie has the pull to get you demoted. But I _do_ know that Ecklie does not like me and, well, I'm worried that I could cause you problems at work so I told Catherine that you would be at work tomorrow. She said she would let Brass and everyone know…" She was now up off the couch and pacing the room.

"Sara, that won't happen."

"How do you know that for sure? I'll feel completely responsible, Gil. Dr. Johns said I shouldn't stress…well, this is stressing me, which is probably not good for my blood pressure…"

"That was a low blow."

"Maybe it was, but it's true. I'm worried, okay? You promised earlier at the doctor's office that you would grant me any favor…so this is it, I'm cashing it in."

"Okay. Okay, you win." He did not want to cause her any added stress, and he _had_ promised.

"Thanks. See, I feel better already." Sara smiled. "I think I'm going to head to bed. You were right when you said that today would probably be a long day."

"Anything I can do to help. I'm tired as well, but I think I'm going to try and stay up for a few more hours to help readjust my internal clock to working nightshift again," Grissom replied.

After he kissed her goodnight, Sara headed to bed, leaving him alone on the couch to think.

Sara really was something else. She was worried about him losing his job when she had so much more to deal with. He didn't think for a moment that Ecklie had the balls to fire him. He was the best in his field, and Ecklie knew that. As much as the Assistant Director might dislike him (and Sara), he needed him. However, that didn't stop Ecklie from being a total ass.

Sara was concerned about him losing his job. He didn't want her stressed so he would return to work. However, he still did not feel right about leaving her by herself.

He walked over to the kitchen counter where he had laid his wallet, keys, and cell phone earlier. Picking up his phone, he quickly dialed a familiar number.

The caller picked up on the third ring.

"Hey, do you have a moment? I need a favor…"

* * *

A/N3: Since you're currently reading A/N3 that means that you finished the chapter, correct? So here's the thing…you review (tell me you love me or hate me…preferably the first) and I'll send my love and a sneak peek along the way. Sounds good, right? Thanks!

A/N4: Before I forget...Happy Valentine's Day (a day early) to everyone.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N1: This is where I like to say thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I'm so amazed by all the support that I have received for this story, and I cannot tell you how much it has meant to me. I also want to thank my beta, Grace (**graciebutterfliedgsr),** because she puts up with me (for some reason).

A/N2: Anonymous reviewers: I don't mind at all but please supply your email address so that I can write back to you (to say thanks and to send a sneak peek)!

A/N3: So I (being the random, insane, "insert whatever you want to call me" person that I am) have decided that since we've been together for a few months (I started this fic Nov. 3rd), we should get to know each other better. I thought I would ask a question and in your review (because you know you want to push that purple button) you could tell me what you thought of the chapter as well as answer the question of the day. Of course, if you want to review and not answer the question that's fine… I just kind of liked the idea of getting to know my readers better. Without any further ado, the first question: Who is sexier—Colin Firth or Hugh Grant? (It's already a given that Grissom is hotter than both).

A/N4: I also want to introduce my muse, Athena. Two nights ago, she wouldn't let me go to sleep, demanding that she be named. When I thought of Athena, she loved it because she thinks of herself as a goddess.

A/N5: Lastly, Chapter 19 took a life of its own because both Sara and Grissom were quite vocal about what they wanted to happen so, well, who I was to say no to them? I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I wished on a shooting star last night so now all I'm waiting for is a phone call from Leslie Moonves. Until then, I do not own CSI.

* * *

_I love you, Sara. From the first moment I saw you, I knew that you were the one._

Sara Sidle was dreaming. Grissom had come to her and finally declared his feelings.

Her mind was still groggy with sleep and halfway in dreamland when she began to gradually awaken.

In her dream, she snuggled closer, seeking both warmth and contact from her lover's body.

"Mmm…" she softly murmured aloud into the darkened room. Her dreams had never seemed this real. This vivid. She could swear that she could hear the steady beat of his heart. That she could feel the heat from his body. That she could smell his aftershave.

In her dreams, she drew lazy patterns on his bare skin. Her hand mimicked the movement of her thoughts, and she realized never before had her dream been this realistic as she could swear that she was touching solid flesh.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and lifted her head. Her face had been buried in his chest. Her left arm was tucked under her head while her right hand was still tracing unintelligible patterns on his back. Her legs were tangled with his.

She was staring at Grissom. "No," she mentally corrected herself, "Gil. Her husband."

This was the first morning that she had awakened before him since she had come home from the hospital. So far, he had always managed to get up a few minutes before her, leaving her to awaken alone in their bed. She had found it frustrating and saddening because she had desperately wanted to have the simple pleasure of waking up to him. And today she was finally receiving her wish.

Slowly, she disentangled herself from Grissom, careful to not disturb him. Moving a few inches back on the bed, she lay on her side, propped up by her left elbow.

Taking full advantage of the fact that Grissom was still sleeping, she took her time admiring him. The comforter had been kicked down sometime during the night so only a thin cotton sheet was draped across his hips, covering his lower body. Due to her earlier snuggling when she thought she had been dreaming, she knew that he was wearing boxers as she had felt the cool fabric against her skin. She had always thought that Grissom would be the kind of guy who slept nude. At least, he had in her dreams.

Her dreams.

Shaking her head, she could hardly believe that that particular dream had come back to her. Thinking back, she wasn't sure she could pinpoint the exact moment when she began dreaming of Grissom. She did remember in the beginning the dreams had started off innocent enough. She would dream of Grissom, smiling at her. Sharing a joke with her. Next, she began to dream that Grissom would ask her out on a date. He would tell her that he wanted to get to know her better. He took her to amusement parks. He took her to the movies. He took her to nice restaurants. At least he had in her dreams. Then, she began to dream that he would declare his feelings for her. That he would tell her he loved her and that he wanted her in his life. And he would make love to her, like she was the most precious thing in the world to him. Sometimes, his lovemaking was much more passionate, and she would find herself waking up the next morning a bit worked up from her nighttime fantasy.

Again, she wondered why she had woken up with that dream in her mind, especially when she looked at Grissom, sleeping peacefully. So beautiful. So handsome. So completely _hers_.

_How had she managed to get so lucky?_ Here he was in bed. With her. This was better than her dream. He was real. If she were to reach out to touch him right now, as her fingers itched to do, she would encounter hard flesh. He would not simply vanish before her eyes as had happened so often in the past when she used to wake up in her bed from her dream. She would still be half asleep and would think that he was actually in her bed. She would reach out to touch him only to find out that it had been a cruel play on her mind as he faded from her vision as she became more fully alert.

Well, he _was_ here now, and he wasn't fading away. She was in their house and in their bed. She might not be able to remember two years of her life but she knew that they were married. She had the ring on her finger to prove it.

Once more, she marveled at the man who slept beside her. He had been so good to her since she had woken up at the hospital. He was a good man, and he was a good husband as well. It did not matter that she couldn't recall any memories because in her heart she knew that he was.

In that moment looking at Grissom, she decided that she would follow his suggestion to take it one day at a time. She believed, truly believed, that her memory would return. It might take a while but she was optimistic. But if –and she had to swallow because this was hard for her to think –if her memory did not return and she would never regain those memories that she had lost (of dating Grissom, of their first time, of marrying him), then it would be okay. "It would," she repeated firmly to herself in her mind. It would be okay because of Grissom. She had him. And together they would make new memories and somehow… well, somehow it would all be okay. As long as she had him by her side and they were together, she felt that her world would be all right.

Her fingers still itched to touch him. To run her fingers across his chest, down his arms. To run her fingers through his graying curls, mussing up his hair. She wanted to kiss him and to reach under the covers to wake him up…

But she wouldn't. She wasn't sure what time he had gone to bed. She knew that he had been trying to stay up at late as possible so his body could get reacquainted with working the night shift hours. So as much as she longed to wake him, she resisted. He needed his sleep. _Damn it._ Well, there would be other times.

She rolled over to look at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost nine in the morning. She was up, and she was no longer sleepy. She was afraid that if she stayed in bed that she would wake Grissom by accident or, well, intentionally if she succumbed to temptation.

She got out of bed, with extra caution to not shake their bed. It was a bit chilly in the house so she walked quietly over to the dresser drawer to grab a pair of socks and some pajama bottoms to put on. Since she had come home from the hospital, all she had been sleeping in was a pair of underwear and one of Grissom's shirts. He hadn't said anything about her choice of night attire so either he did not mind her wearing his shirts or he was already used to her doing that.

After she dressed, she tiptoed out of their bedroom. Her stomach had started grumbling, signaling that maybe she should try to eat something so she made her way into the kitchen. She didn't particularly want to try to cook anything for two reasons. She was afraid that she might make too much noise and wake Grissom, which she did not want to do. And as much as she could remember, she wasn't that great of a cook and she wasn't sure that married life had improved her abilities.

Instead, she opened the pantry door and searched for something that could serve as a light breakfast and keep her hunger abated. _Hmm, what do we have here…?_ She had spotted a bag of Quakers chocolate-flavored bite-sized rice cakes. "Sounds good to me," she thought as she reached for the bag and shut the door of the pantry. Next, she got a glass from the cabinet and poured herself some milk to drink. She walked over to the bar stools, bag in one hand and the glass in her other hand, and took a seat at the counter. Opening the back of rice cakes, she began to eat.

While she ate, she wondered how long Grissom would sleep. She wasn't sure what time he had ended up coming to bed. A few times before when he had come to bed later, she would hear him and half-consciously she would move over to be near him. Last night, she hadn't woken up at all.

She was sad that he would have to go back to work today, not that she would tell him that because she knew he was already feeling guilty about leaving her in the first place. Actually, she wouldn't be surprised if he didn't have someone to come over to be with her. That _would_ be something that he would do.

She would miss him when he left for work. Even if he was in a separate room, like he was now, she just liked knowing that he was near. He made her feel so… so cherished. She was not looking forward to when it was time for Grissom to leave for the lab. She reminded herself that it wasn't like it was the end. She was going to return to work as well so they would be spending their nights together again. And if she had her way, then she would be returning to work sooner rather than later.

She was looking forward to working with her husband. She knew that she had before but she didn't remember it. She wondered, "Would it feel any different?" And she wondered if they had ever got down and funky at the lab? Would Grissom have done that? Well, she knew that she wouldn't mind making a new memory in his office on his desk behind closed door and hidden blinds that's for sure…

Realizing that she was full, she stopped eating and closed the bag of rice cakes. As she returned the bag to the pantry and placed her glass in the sink, she debated on what to do next. She could always flip on the morning news show, but she needed to shower as well. However, she didn't want to disturb Grissom. Well, she could use the guest bathroom. Deciding to do that, she made her way into the master bathroom and grabbed her essentials for showering.

Twenty minutes later, she stepped out of the shower in the guest bathroom only to realize that she hadn't brought clothes to change into. _Crap._ She wrapped a towel around her and picked up her dirty clothes. _Dirty clothes. Laundry!_ Since they had been home from the hospital she didn't think that she had seen Grissom do any laundry yet. Would he have something to wear tonight for work? Was anything clean?

Well, she could do the laundry. It _was _a _wifely_ thing to do. The laundry room was situated at the opposite end of the house so that meant Grissom probably wouldn't be bothered by the noise. At least, she would hope not.

Smiling at the idea in her head, she made her way back to the master bedroom and quickly finished dressing. She went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth and pulled her hair back in a loose ponytail so that her hair would be out of her face.

She then noticed the laundry basket. Overflowing. _Oh boy._ She might have to make a couple of trips.

She couldn't believe that it had gotten that bad, but she and Grissom had been in their own little world. Just enjoying each other and doing laundry hadn't been on their minds.

It took her two trips to drag all the dirty clothes into the laundry room. On her last trip out of their bedroom, she had closed the door to help block out any potential noise that she might make.

As she separated the color from the whites, the delicates (mainly her stuff) from the non-delicates, and the towels from everything else, she thought to herself, "The joys of domestic work..."

It took her a while, but she was finally close to reaching the bottom of the basket. _Thank God. Who knew they had so many clothes?_

She reached down to pick up some more items to be separated. _What are these?_ Unfurling them, she held them out. They were a pair of Grissom's boxers. And they were not just an ordinary pair of boxers. No, these boxers had dancing spiders with little Santa hats designed on them. She had to laugh. They were _so_ adorable. And _so_ Grissom. She bet he looked _quite_ sexy in them as well. She allowed her imagination to run wild for a few minutes imagining Grissom wearing them. She wondered briefly if he (or, heck, she) had bought them or if the boxers had been a gag gift at the lab's annual Christmas party…?

Throwing the boxers into the pile of colors that she had created, she continued to finish her task.

Looking at the washer and dryer, she thought, "I really hope that our washer and dryer aren't the kind that require a rocket scientist to figure out how to use them."

_xxx_

_Later that morning…_

Grissom woke up, alone.

He was lying on his back, with his eyes closed. His mind was still cloudy with sleep.

He slung his arm to the side, ran his hand up and down the sheet covering the mattress. The sheet was cold. _That's not right. Something doesn't feel right._

He opened his eyes and rolled to his side.

_Sara._ That's what was wrong. That's what was missing. She wasn't in bed. With him. He had become accustomed to waking up in the morning with her against him, cuddling. Her face buried in his chest. Her hand resting on his back while the other one was tucked under her head. Her legs tangled with his.

Quickly, he sat up in bed. _It hadn't been a dream, had it?_ Had he dreamed the whole thing? Had he dreamed that Sara had an accident? Had he dreamed that Sara had moved in with him and that they were now living together?

_No, no. It could not have been a dream._ His mind could not have been that cruel to dream of everything that had happened. It couldn't be possible.

He had dreamed and dreamed often of Sara in the past. And none of his dreams had come close to what was happening now. He had dreamed of her in his house. On his couch. In his bed. He had dreamed of kissing her and of making to love to her. But in his dreams he hadn't known her taste –the taste of Sara's lips, of Sara's kisses. Now, he did. He had tasted her sweetness. Her fire. Her passion. The flavor of her kisses was forever imprinted in his mind. And the little sounds that she made… now he knew those as well.

Lost in his reverie, he finally noticed that the bedroom door was shut. It had been opened when he went to bed. _Thank God._ He hadn't been dreaming. It was real. Sara was here.

He found it hard to believe that they had been sharing a bed together for only a week. It didn't seem possible. He had grown used to waking up beside Sara and now that she wasn't in bed with him he felt a feeling of loss.

And now that he was listening, he thought that he heard the muted sounds of the television in the living room as well. She must have woken up before him and decided to let him sleep some more. He looked at the clock for the time. It was almost eleven-thirty.

Walking over to the dresser, he quickly threw on a t-shirt and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

_xxx_

Grissom walked, noiselessly, into the living room. He stopped at the end of the hallway, the beginning of the living room.

Sara hadn't noticed him yet.

She was sitting on the couch, with her knees curled under her. She had one of his crossword puzzle books in her left hand while she was tapping a pencil under her chin. He could see the little lines from where her brow was furrowed, and she was lost in deep concentration.

_She looked so damn cute._

He realized that the sound that he had heard in the bedroom was not from the television. Sara had the stereo turned on low and a man was singing hauntingly about stones teaching him how to fly.

He stood with his back against the wall, taking advantage of the opportunity to watch Sara since she was unaware of his presence. A few minutes later, she noticed him.

Her entire face lit up in a smile.

_God, she was exactly what he needed in his life. He could never have a bad day if he could just see that smile aimed at him._

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said, laying the crossword and pencil on the coffee table, completely forgotten.

He grinned back. "Good morning, sweetheart. You could have woken me, you know."

"True." She didn't tell him _how_ tempted she had been to wake him up. "But I figured you might need your beauty sleep," she finished, cheekily.

"Very funny," he said as he came to sit down next to her on the couch.

She moved over until she was close enough to rest her head on his shoulder.

Reaching for the stereo remote, Sara turned the music off and turned the TV on with the changer. "There's a documentary on at noon that I wanted to watch. I think that you'll probably enjoy it, too."

Sara settled in to watch the show, determined to just enjoy the last few hours she had with Grissom before he left for work.

Grissom started watching the show, but his mind began to drift to the woman beside him. He did not want to return to work tonight. He would rather stay home and be with Sara. But he promised her that he would go back to work so he would. He really hoped that she wouldn't be too upset about that phone call he made last night to…

Sara's voice broke into his thoughts, and he noticed that the ending credits were rolling. She had sat up and was looking at him, questioningly. "Hey, where did you go? What were you just thinking about?"

"I was thinking that I will miss you tonight." That wasn't exactly what he had just been thinking about, but it was close enough. And, most importantly, it was true.

"I'll miss you, too." She anticipated his protest because even as his mouth began to move she quickly continued, "But you need to go back to work. The team needs you, Gil. After all, you are the best CSI there is…"

"I am?" He flushed slightly at her unexpected compliment. He both respected and admired Sara for her intelligence, and it was nice to hear that she held that same confidence in him.

"Yes, you are. Don't act so surprised! Like you didn't know that I thought that already. Why else am I with you? It's your brain that attracts me," she joked.

Grissom grinned, wickedly. "And here I was thinking it was my body…"

Sara laughed and launched herself into his arms, causing him to fall backwards on the couch until he was lying on his back. She was on top of him with her hands on either side of his body, bracing herself so that her face was only a few inches above his.

"Silly man," she managed to say when she was finally able to quit giggling. His blue eyes stared up at hers, twinkling with amusement. Her eyes sparkled with the same. Then it changed. Shifted. As the laughter died, their bodies became more aware of their position and how intimately close they were to each other. His eyes began to darken as his body began to enjoy the feel of having Sara on top of him, her breasts crushed against his chest.

"Silly, silly man," she whispered again before she leaned down to kiss him.

Mouths parted. Tongues collided and wrestled for dominance.

In a swift move that took her completely by surprise, Grissom had their positions reversed. In one moment, she was on top of him, being kissed passionately. And in the next second, she was under him, still being kissed senseless.

Not that she was complaining or anything.

His hips pressed against her, fueling the growing ache she was feeling.

She ran her fingers through his hair, across his chest. Desperate to touch him. Grissom grabbed her wandering hands and restrained both her arms above her head, one-handedly. She squirmed to get closer to him. She wanted him to touch her. She pushed her chest up, suggestively –wanting, craving his hands on her.

He got the message. Loud and clear. As his mouth continued to drug her senses, his free hand slipped beneath her tank top. His fingers leisurely skimmed her ribcage and were a hairbreadth away from where she most wanted to be touched when a loud buzzing noise began to break through the recesses of her mind.

_SHIT! Of all times for the dryer to be going off…_

Grissom must have heard the offending sound as well as his fingers stilled on her skin. As his brain cleared and he realized what he had been doing, he withdrew his hand and sat up on the couch, leaving Sara still lying on the couch, frustrated in more than one way.

Grissom sat, silently, and stared blankly ahead. She was curious to know what was going through his head. To know what emotions were running around. He was so difficult to read!

_Holy fucking shit. What the hell just happened?_ Well, he knew what had almost happened. His body was still craving for _it_ to happen. To finish what Sara had started. _Or had he started it? Shit, who cares?_ All he knew was that they had been laughing. She had been smiling down at him. She had leaned down to kiss him and things just got out of hand. _Way_ out of hand.

Glancing over at Sara out of the corner of his eye, he thought to himself that she was beautiful.

And _fucking _hard to resist.

Once he tasted her that first 'accidental' kiss, he knew that he had been sucker punched. Not kissing Sara was like experiencing the greatest high you ever could and then being told that you were forbidden to ever feel that pleasure again. To resist Sara after he had that high… well, you would have to be made of stone and he sure as hell wasn't. She was the forbidden fruit on the Tree of Knowledge.

While Grissom came to the realization that he wasn't made of stone, Sara was becoming increasingly annoyed by his silence. She couldn't handle it any longer. Standing up, she said, "I'm going to go finish the laundry," and began to walk away.

"Sara. Wait a second. Please?" he asked, as he stood up as well.

"Yes?"

"I'm… I'm sorry." He wasn't quite sure what to say since he felt like he had screwed up, royally.

"For what?" she asked. "For what almost happened? Why? I'm not… well, I _am_ sorry that the dryer decided to go off at that precise moment. But that's a whole another thing entirely."

"Sara… I just feel that maybe I shouldn't, uh, push sooner than you need…" _This really wasn't going well._

"Did it feel like I was resisting?" Sara questioned back.

"Well… no. But I just want you to be ready and you still are not fully recovered. I just… I don't want to hurt you," he finished, lamely. It was true. He really did not want to hurt her. Though the reasons he might hurt her were different than what she might assume.

"You wouldn't, Gil. But fine we'll do things your way." He seemed relieved until she added, "For now." His gentleman's honor thing was something she respected, but still she hoped that she could change his mind.

Wanting to change to a safer subject, he offered, "Why don't I help you with the laundry? And why are you doing laundry anyway? You're supposed to be resting, Sara."

He followed her to the laundry room.

"Maybe because I was worried that you, my husband, might not have something to wear tonight. That could have been it. Besides, I rested between loads, which is one of the reasons that I'm still not finished."

The buzzing sound of the dryer had stopped, thankfully.

Sara opened the dryer while Grissom began helping her unload it. It was a load of his clothes. Reaching into the dryer, Sara once again came across the dancing spider Christmas boxers.

Showing them to Grissom, she grinned. "I really like these. What do you say maybe one night this week you model them for me, Mr. Bugman? Might help jog my memory," she teased, tossing them at him. When he pretended to come at her to tickle her, she danced away, laughing.

_xxx_

The rest of the afternoon was spent together, relaxing. Neither of them brought up the subject of him returning to work that night. The time for him to leave would come soon enough they knew.

Everything between them was okay again. Sara appeared to have accepted his answer to why he had put a stop to their early afternoon extracurricular activities.

He made lunch for the two of them, although Sara only picked at her food. Later he showered and changed into his work clothes while she rested on the couch, due to his insistence. He had decided since he had to return to work that he might as well go in early so he could take care of a few things. While in the bedroom, he also made a quick phone call to make sure that everything was still okay for this evening. It was. Going in early also meant that he probably wouldn't be here when a certain someone showed up, which might be a good thing since he wasn't sure how Sara would react.

He couldn't help but be worried about her.

Looking over at the clock in the bedroom, he realized that it as almost time for him to leave. He couldn't believe the afternoon had passed so fast.

Walking into the bathroom he gave his reflection one last cursory glance before heading back out into the living room. He saw Sara, lying on the couch with her eyes closed.

She must have been more tired than she let on and had fallen asleep. His desire to not leave without giving her a kiss goodnight warred with his unwillingness to disturb her from her sleep. In the end, he decided to just give her a gentle kiss on the cheek.

Sara opened her eyes after he kissed her and smiled at him. "Hi."

"Hi, honey. I have to go in a few minutes. I rather stay here with you though," he told her, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.

"Yeah, me too. But it's work for you tonight." She sat up and then stood, walking with him as he gathered his keys and work essentials.

"I hope you have a good night at work. Remember to play nice with the others," she joked, trying to keep things light and not cry like some overly emotional woman.

He laughed. "Thanks, honey. I'll be sure to do that." He definitely knew someone he needed to deal with… although he wasn't sure if he would be able to 'play nice' with that particular person.

He opened the front door and Sara stood with her back against the doorframe.

"I'll miss you," he said, softly, while running a hand lightly down her cheek.

Sara brought her hand to capture the one on her face and held it still for a moment then she stepped toward him and kissed him goodbye.

"I'll miss you, too. Think of me, Gilbert," she said with a small smile and stepped back into the house, closing the door behind her since she did not want to prolong the inevitable.

Grissom stood on the front porch a moment longer, staring at the closed door. Then he made his way down the steps and to his Denali. "Think of me," she had said. How could he _not_ think of her was the question…?

_xxx_

Grissom had already been gone for an hour, and she was still moping around.

She was sad. The house didn't feel the same without him in it, and she didn't like it. She was lonely and was bordering on the point of being miserable. Thinking that some chocolate might cheer her up, she started to head to the kitchen and attempt to make some brownies that she had seen earlier in the pantry.

The ringing of the doorbell stopped her midway to the kitchen. Brightening, she headed to the front door and opened it.

"Hi. I've been expecting you," she said.

* * *

A/N6: So my dear readers… here is where we part ways. You go do your thing (by reviewing) and I'll do mine (by sending you a sneak peek). Deal?


	20. Chapter 20

A/N1: First, I want to say THANK YOU again for all the incredibly kind comments that I received for the last chapter and for the story as a whole.

A/N2: Ch. 20 is finally here! Sorry –so sorry –about the wait. I COMPLETELY got sidetracked by another fic idea and, in my defense, I never expected it to turn into a 12,000 word story! Then it took me a bit to get my mind refocused on Memories. Hope you like the chapter. There will be a longer A/N at the end (lol). Oh, this chapter is not beta-ed so please forgive any mistakes…

A/N3: I forgot to mention last time that I will answer the "question of the day" in the next chapter's A/N. So, anyway, my answer was Colin Firth. As you'll see later there was a reason why I asked that particular question. Today's question might require some thought. I love quotes so I wanted to know what is your favorite quote (or one of your favorite quotes)? If you want, then you can tell me why as well...

* * *

_Earlier that afternoon…_

"Do you know what this is about?" Greg asked Warrick, as they stood outside of the Las Vegas Crime Lab.

Shrugging his shoulders, Warrick replied, "I don't know. Your guess is as good as mine." Nick had called an hour earlier and asked both of them to meet him outside the lab's parking lot around two o'clock but had refused to say anything more when questioned.

Hearing footsteps approaching, the two friends glanced up to see Nick heading toward them.

"Hey, guys. Thanks for showing up. Here, follow me," Nick said as he led them to the back of the building where it was deserted.

"So are you going to tell us why you made us come in to work early or are you just going to keep us in suspense?" Warrick asked when they had all stopped again.

"It's about Ecklie…" Nick began.

"This cannot be good for my job security," Warrick thought. "Okay, what about Ecklie?" he asked out loud.

"At first, it seemed that Ecklie might actually be human and was understanding that Grissom needed and wanted to take some time off to take care of Sara, which was a nice surprise. But, of course, that did not last long and Ecklie showed his true colors, again. By now, we've all heard the whispers and the rumors in the hallways that Ecklie is trying to create trouble for Grissom by getting him demoted or worse, if Ecklie has his way. He's always been an ass, which is nothing new. I just know that I'm tired of him and his personal vendetta against Grissom."

"So far, I'm agreeing with you," Warrick said. Greg nodded his head in agreement as well.

"Good. Grissom and Sara are our friends, and I think that we should step in and do something to help Grissom. He's always been good to us so I think it's time that we return the favor. What I'm about to suggest might be career suicide on all parts so before I go any further, well, I have to ask…are you in?" Nick questioned his two friends.

Warrick sighed. He knew that he should have been worried. But he would help because he respected Grissom, and he considered Sara to be a good friend. "Yeah, I'm in."

"Greg?" Nick asked, looking at the young man.

"You don't even have to ask. Nobody backs Grissom and Sara into a corner!" he shouted, pumping his fist into the air. He was excited that he had been invited to help out.

"Okay, Patrick Swayze," Nick said, dryly. He wasn't sure he was doing the right thing by getting Greg involved, but for his plan he needed two other people. Still, aside from Greg's outlandish behavior at times, the kid had a good heart and he cared a lot about Sara.

"Moving on…" Warrick began.

"Yes, moving on. So, here's the plan or, well, the basics of it. Two of us should go into Ecklie's office –I was thinking that Warrick and I could do this –since it will go faster with two people looking…"

"What are we looking for?" Warrick asked as Greg questioned, "What am I supposed to be doing?"

Nick answered Warrick first. "Honestly, man, I'm not sure. I was hoping to know it when we see it kind of thing. There's no way that a man like Ecklie has zero to hide. He's too slick. Too sleazy kind of like one of those snake oil used cars salesmen. And Greg you're going to be our lookout."

"That doesn't seem that important," Greg complained. He had been hoping for something a bit more thrilling than a position of a lookout.

"Greg, that _is_ important. You're the one who can save our asses if Ecklie is coming…" On second thought, maybe he shouldn't trust Greg with that important responsibility.

"Well, I guess if you put it that way, then it sounds better. I'll be the best sentry there was! We shall avenge Grissom! Let's go!"

Nick and Warrick exchanged worried glances, both thinking the same thing, "Oh, God."

Together, the three of them headed to the lab to begin their mission.

"Hey, you know what I just thought? We're like the three musketeers! All for one and one for all!" Greg exclaimed, excitedly.

_xxx_

They had been in Ecklie's office for twenty minutes and had found nothing.

Greg was outside, loitering around, keeping watch.

"Damn it, Nick. I want to help Grissom as much as you do, but if there were something to find don't you think that we would have discovered it by now?" Warrick questioned. He couldn't help but be nervous that something was going to go wrong. "We're not even sure if there was something to find that it would even be here in his office at work. He might have evidence –of whatever we're looking for –at his home for all we know."

"Let's…" Nick began but broke off when he heard a familiar voice drawing near.

The door to Ecklie's office was shut (it had been that way) and the only light they had on was the desk lamp. Nick had brought flashlights for extra lighting.

They both looked at each other, their eyes mirroring the exact same thought, "We are _so _screwed."

"Yes. Thanks, Jenny. I'll see you later," Ecklie's voice could be heard saying from out in the hallway.

"How are we going to explain being in his office?" Nick worried to himself.

"Why couldn't have Greg warned us in time?" Warrick thought.

"Hi, sir. How are you today, sir?" Nick and Warrick could hear Greg speaking, presumably to the Assistant Director. Turning off their flashlights, they listened and prepared for the worst since there wasn't anywhere to hide in Ecklie's office.

"Sanders. And what do I owe this pleasure to?" Ecklie asked, sarcastically and not so friendly.

Greg was standing in front of Ecklie's door, effectively blocking him from entering his office. This was his chance to show both Nick and Warrick that he was useful and not just an immature kid. He really hoped he wouldn't blow the opportunity.

Greg continued, without pause, as if Ecklie had not just been rude to him. "I was actually hoping that we could talk. I was wondering if you could give me some advice…"

"Advice? You want _me_ to advise you? And not Gil Grissom?" Ecklie sounded disbelieving.

"Well, see that's just it. I want some career advice and, um, don't get me wrong I think Grissom is good at his job and everything. But, well, let's be honest… he doesn't know how to play the game, if you know what I mean. And he has his favorites –not that I have anything against Sara, of course." Greg hesitated a moment, acting as if he was contemplating whether or not to say more. "I hate to say it, but it seems that lately Grissom is more concerned about Sara than his job –than the lab. Sir, I know you would never do that. You know what is important. You're both career-minded and ambitious and, well, I admire that. A lot," Greg finished. He hoped, seriously, God would not strike him dead for all the lies that he had just told. He had almost choked on some vomit with those last couple of sentences. _Admire Ecklie? Uh, gag me!_

Ecklie stood in semi-shock while Greg completed his speech. "Wow, the little geek-faced kid isn't as dumb as I thought he was. He's smart enough to recognize someone who is powerful and successful. Then again why shouldn't he admire me? I'm more a man than Grissom could ever be…" he thought to himself. "Well, thank you, Sanders. I appreciate that you can recognize that in me. What exactly do you want to know? We can go into my office and…"

"No," Greg quickly interrupted, causing Ecklie to look at him, frowning. "No, um, I was going to suggest…that is if it was okay with you, of course, that we talk about this outside the lab. I don't want to have to worry about people overhearing us. I thought that we could have a, uh, late lunch maybe? My treat, of course, sir." _Please, God, let him say yes._

Ecklie considered the invitation for a few minutes. He might have thought it was weird that Sanders did not want to talk in his office, but he just chalked it up to the kid being a bit odd and paranoid. Besides, he would get a free meal. "Okay, why not?"

Greg let out a huge mental sigh of relief as his heart finally managed to slow down for the first time since he had spotted Ecklie coming down the hallway. He had quickly realized that he wouldn't have time to warn Nick and Warrick, and he had panicked at first. Walking over to Ecklie, he placed a hand on his back, hoping to lead him out and away from his office where his friends were still hiding.

"Sanders, get your hand off me," Ecklie demanded.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," Greg said, immediately removing his hand.

Ecklie readjusted the jacket of his suit, puffing out his chest a bit. He began walking down the hall with Greg following. "I'll be happy to give you some advice as I do pride myself on my success. Did you know that…?" Ecklie's voice became fainter as he walked further away from his office.

While Greg was 'taking one for the team,' Warrick and Nick were thanking their lucky stars and the fates for their good fortune.

"That was close," Nick said.

"Yeah, a little_ too _close for comfort," Warrick agreed.

"Well, the good thing is that Greg bought us some more time. Damn, he did well. I never knew that he was so good at bullshit. And Ecklie's such a self-important ass that he believed it all. You could just tell that he was lapping all of Greg's 'yes, sir' crap up."

"All I got to say is that it's a damn good thing that he did. Or we would be in deep shit right about now and drawing unemployment tomorrow," Warrick added.

"God, that kid was great. I'm so proud."

"Okay, we can talk about Greg's great acting ability later, but for now, do you have any idea of where else to look in Ecklie's office?" He just really wanted to get the hell out of Ecklie's office before anything else happened.

"You know what…" Nick paused, contemplating aloud. "You checked his desk and its drawers, right?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Hmmm…what if…hold on, let me check something. It's just an idea," Nick said, as he got down on the floor in front of Ecklie's desk and began inspecting it.

"Nick, what exactly are you doing?"

"This probably sounds ridiculous or like something Greg would say, but I'm looking for a secret drawer or opening," Nick confessed, without looking up –still in deep concentration on his present task. "Hmmm…" he muttered out loud while opening a drawer of the desk and removing everything that was in it. He felt around, knocking on the bottom of it. "Wait, what's this? Did you hear that?" Without waiting for a reply, he continued, "It sounded hollow…wow, I think there is something there." Nick's voice displayed both his disbelief and excitement.

Warrick stepped closer to see what Nick had found. "Are you serious? Damn."

Nick didn't bother answering. Finally, he managed to pry the secret compartment open. He couldn't freaking believe it. He had been half-kidding when he had told Warrick that he was looking for a hidden department. That was something you only found in spy movies, not in real life.

Carefully, he withdrew the drawer's contents and placed them on Ecklie's desk. There were multiple manila folders. Each one was heavy and filled with papers.

Nick handed Warrick a folder to flip through while he looked at another one.

For the next ten minutes, the only sound that filled Ecklie's office was the sound of pages being turned.

They hadn't even gone through half the folders that they had discovered when they looked up at each other, eyes wide.

"Holy shit!" Nick exclaimed.

"We hit the freaking mother load," Warrick agreed.

_xxx_

_Back at Grissom's house (later that evening)…_

"Oh. Really? Because I was just in the neighborhood…thought I would stop by kind of thing since I had the night off," Catherine told Sara.

Sara had the front door open and was leaning against the doorframe. "Catherine, it's okay you can drop the act. I know Gil is behind you being here."

"So he told you then? Well, that's good." Catherine had figured that Grissom would take the easy way out and not tell Sara that he had asked her to come.

"No, he didn't. I just had a feeling that someone might 'casually' drop in on me tonight."

Catherine was more than happy to drop all pretenses. "Well, Grissom did ask me to come by, but Sara don't be too upset with him. Okay? He's just concerned about you, that's all."

Sara sighed. "Yeah, I do know. And I'm not upset with him. I find it sweet that he cares so much. Come in and stay a while if you want."

"Well, actually…I wasn't dropping by for just a visit, Sara. Grissom, uh, asked me to spend the night."

"What?" Sara asked. "Are you serious?"

"Hey, come on. It will be fun. I promise. Why don't you come and help me unload my car? I brought some essentials for a girls' night," Catherine told her.

"Essentials?" She had never had a girls' night before (or at least not that she could remember) so she wasn't sure what exactly she was in for.

Opening the back door to her vehicle, Catherine handed Sara her pillow (she always took her pillow when she traveled) and an overnight bag, containing her clothes and toiletries. "Will you carry these, please?" When Sara took both, she added, "Thanks."

Sara stood back watching as her friend finished getting the rest of her stuff out of her car, which included their dinner. "You brought dinner? Nice. Thanks."

"You're welcome. The pizza, in case you're wondering, is half cheese and half vegetarian."

Together, they walked back up the stairs of the front porch and into the house. "Where do you want me to sit my stuff?" Catherine asked.

"Uh, well, just sit everything in the living room for now I guess." Sara said. "So what constitutes a girls' night?" She was happy that she wasn't alone anymore. Of course, she would rather have Gil be here with her but you can't always get what you want, at least not according to the Rolling Stones.

"You don't know?" Catherine asked with a hint of disbelief in her voice. She didn't know much about Sara's childhood because the girl was so _damn_ private. Still, how could you not have a girls' night before?

Sara felt her cheeks grow hot, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Um, well…"

_Shit. Now I made her self-conscious. _She and Sara had not always seen eye-to-eye, an understatement if there ever was one. However, she did respect Sara –she always spoke her mind, which was something that she could admire. Plus, she was damn good at her job. Determined to put Sara back at ease, she quickly continued, "Well, first of all… can I tell you that you and Grissom are Lindsey's heroes right now?"

"Really? How come?" Sara asked.

"Well, since I'm spending the night over here, I told her that she could have her own sleepover at her friend's house tonight, which is something I rarely allow to happen on a school night. I told her that she had you and Grissom to thank. Anyway, speaking of Lindsey, I raided her DVD collection and brought over a couple of movies to watch."

"What movies?" Sara asked.

"Since we're having a girls' night, I went for the romantic comedy category. I grabbed Love Actually and Bridget Jones' Diary. They both have Colin Firth and Hugh Grant in them. According to Lindsey, they are both delicious eye candy. I agree that they are both pretty cute. Have you seen either movie?"

"Um, no. I don't think so…" She guessed that it was possible that she might have seen them but she did have two years of her life she couldn't remember. "What are they about?"

"Trust me, they are the ultimate 'Oh my God, can I have a man like that?' type of movie. Or at least that's what I think. Afterwards, we can have a debate on who is hotter –Colin or Hugh," Catherine said.

Sara laughed. She wasn't even sure who Colin or Hugh was.

"I also brought along something to drink –beer. You can never go wrong with pizza and beer. In addition to supplying you with food and drink for the night, I brought some nail polish so we can paint our toenails and stuff for facemasks –it makes your skin feel all soft and glow-y. It's fabulous, and I completely swear by them!"

Sara wasn't so sure about it all but it, uh, sounded interesting. It would be an adventure at least. She decided that she would just 'go with the flow' and follow Catherine's lead and enjoy the evening. Besides, if it was really horrible, then she could make Gil feel bad for leaving her with Catherine. "Before you rang the doorbell, I was actually thinking about making some brownies tonight…"

"Yes, chocolate is a _must_ for a slumber party. I forgot you had the brownies," Catherine said, without thinking.

Looking at her friend, Sara asked, "How did you know that we had brownies to make?"

_Um, think quickly._ "Oh! Uh, Grissom mentioned when we talked earlier that maybe 'us girls' could make them tonight. And it seems these days my memory is going or maybe it's just because I have too many things on my mind…" _There –not too bad of a lie? Right? God, please let Sara believe me and not question me further. I can't really admit the real reason that I know is because Grissom asked me to make his house look like a vegetarian lived here, and I happened to buy the brownie mix myself…_

"Oh, okay," Sara said. Catherine's explanation sounded reasonable, and she had no reason to doubt her.

"So, why don't we get comfortable? I suggest that we change into some pajamas. The recipe for a great girls' night includes wearing pajamas, watching sappy movies, and eating food that has absolutely no nutritional value (which must include chocolate) and drinking. Not to mention we need to have long, in-depth philosophical discussions on which male celebrity we would like to make out with and music –I forgot to mention that I brought us some c.d.'s … we can make like Tom Cruise in Risky Business and get our dance on…it will be fun, trust me!"

_OH MY GOD…_ "If you say so, Catherine…I'm just going to go along for the ride?" She was getting a bit worried but still she thought it might be fun. At least she could experience what a slumber party was…even if it was over two decades too late.

"Let's separate to change and meet back in the living room so we can eat our pizza before it gets cold and watch a movie. Then we'll just go from there…it will be a very chill evening. Promise," Catherine said.

Ten minutes later, they were both back in the living room and settling down to watch the movie with their pizza and alcoholic beverages.

* * *

A/N4: Finally, it's revealed Catherine was at the door the whole time. I honestly didn't think it would be that big of a mystery since she had offered earlier to come sit with Sara when Grissom returned to work. Hope you will enjoy the rest of the slumber party (lol) that I have planned. As for the Ecklie thing, I have jumped on the bandwagon of "Ecklie's an ass so let's all gang up on him in fanfiction." Hope you don't mind. Its kind of fun and there's lots more room on the wagon if you want to join. Also my storyline is evolving as I'm writing…and I'm just going with it. I'm adding a bit more drama to the story, however, I will say Memories is quite drama-y (yeah, I just made up a word) already. I also have planned to add another character to the mix soon… (laughs evilly). I can already foresee reviews saying, "OMG Sara's going to be pregnant, right?" Hmm…should I burst your bubble now…or later?

A/N5: Moving on… I thought I would get creative…and write a poem for you.

So this is your cue/ To leave me a review/ Because when I get a few/ I smile and giggle, too/ So give me my due/ And I'll send along a preview/ Btw CBS please don't sue

LMAO… anyway, you know the saying "I'm a poet and didn't know it…" well, that's not me. HAHA. Btw, I do know that poems don't have to rhyme but I was trying to make it cheesy. I think I succeeded?? Anyway… push that purple button and I'll send you a sneak peek and I promise not to be so late in sending it this time!


	21. Chapter 21

A/N1: A special thanks to Grace (**graciebutterfliedgsr**) for the help in the beta department as well as to Miss Becky (**BeckyCSI**) for telling me that she enjoyed my insanity.

A/N2: My favorite quote: _It was a high counsel that I once heard given to a young person –"Always do what you are afraid to do," _by Ralph Waldo Emerson. The new question of the day is: What animal would you choose to come back as if you were reincarnated? You may give an explanation, if you wish.

A/N3: This chapter is dedicated in part to my mom because the songs/bands mentioned are what I grew up listening to as a child. This chapter is what you get when you're listening to Bruce Springsteen at 2 a.m. in the morning and you have headache. Hope you enjoy my insanity.

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of CSI or its characters. Damn you, TPTB!

* * *

_Earlier that evening (again)…_

"You two!" Greg exclaimed as he stumbled into the bar, pointing at Nick and Warrick, who were both sitting in a corner booth and nursing a beer. About fifteen minutes earlier, he had received a text message on his cell phone from Nick stating to meet him and Warrick at a bar that was located a couple blocks from work. He didn't think he had ever been happier to receive a text from another person. In his mind, he was thanking his lucky stars, while outwardly he made sure that he looked appropriately upset at having to end the meeting with Ecklie. He made his apologies as quickly as he could and left without a backwards glance.

It was nearly five o'clock in the evening, meaning he had spent over two hours in Ecklie's company. Two _very_ miserable hours.

Both Nick and Warrick greeted him and gestured for him to take a seat. Nick signaled a waiter and ordered a beer for him.

After the waitress returned with his drink, Greg repeated, "You two owe me BIG time. I feel dirty… like I need to go shower." He shuddered visibly as he continued, "I just sat and listened to Ecklie talk about how he was God's gift to the world for over two hours…"

Nick interrupted, "Greg, you did a great job. Seriously, man, we appreciate you saving us from getting caught. If you hadn't been so quick on your feet, then Warrick and I would be up the creek without a paddle right about now. We already decided that we're going to have to take you out for a drink some night."

"Oh, no. No, you owe me so much more than that! You did not have to listen to Ecklie telling you about his childhood. Yeah, he went all the way back to the beginning of his life… I don't think I'm ever going to be able to erase those images out of my mind. Did you know that August 23, 1954, was the day the world became a better place?"

Warrick and Nick traded confused glances. Both were wondering what the hell Greg was rambling about. "Uh, no. Why?" Warrick asked.

"Well, that's the date that Conrad Eugene Ecklie was born. After twenty long hours of labor, he came screaming into the world a full nine pounds. He was a big boy, his mother said. Next, he proceeded to tell me all about how he became known as the best hall monitor in his elementary school, and how he had the most citations in the history of hall monitory at his school. He also gave me some long story about how he was cheated from winning the election of Student Council President. According to him, some little prissy girl baked chocolate chip cookies and bought her votes. That was in eighth grade. In high school, apparently, he was cheated as well from becoming homecoming king…"

Up to that point, Nick and Warrick had been listening without any interruption to Greg retelling the horror story of having lunch with Ecklie, but neither of them could hold in their laughter any longer when he got to the part about how Ecklie thought he should have won homecoming king.

"See –don't laugh!" Greg exclaimed. "I had to listen to this and more. And I had to pretend that I cared, that I was interested. During his entire self-centered speech, I had to nod and smile. God, my teeth hurt from gritting them in an effort to keep from showing a look of absolute disgust…"

"Sorry, Greg…" Nick began.

"Damn right! You two should be sorry! And, well, I'm not sure if sorry cuts it. When Ecklie began making derogatory remarks about Grissom and Sara… well, I didn't know if I could take it anymore." He decided against mentioning that Ecklie had a few unkind things to say about the two of them as well. Actually, Ecklie had things to say about everyone; it seemed that once Ecklie had a 'captive' audience he would not shut up.

Greg continued, "So finally in an effort to try to preserve my sanity, I began picturing that there were empty soup cans on top of Ecklie's head and that I was Wyatt Earp. I then 'shot' the cans off the top of his bald head…"

Nick was almost afraid to ask, but he had to know. "Um, how exactly did you do that?"

As Greg explained how he 'shot' the cans off Ecklie's head, he became more animated. "Well, see I would squint and blink either my right or left eye and lean my head one way, depending on the angle needed to shoot the can," Greg said as he tried to demonstrate what he was talking about.

Again, Nick and Warrick looked at each other. "The kid is insane. But he did save our asses so he's an insane genius," Nick thought to himself.

"Didn't Ecklie notice?" Warrick asked.

Greg laughed. "Yeah, right. Ecklie was too busy reminiscing and telling me about how great he was so he didn't notice at first. He really wouldn't make a good crime scene investigator, that's for sure. He's way too self-absorbed. It's all about Conrad Ecklie, and no one else matters. Anyway, I actually had trouble not grinning too big. I _rocked_ that game! But he did notice –finally –after I had been playing the game for like forty minutes. He asked why I was squinting and blinking so rapidly –at this point, I had changed weapons to an automatic so I could fire faster… so yeah I just made up an excuse and said that I had an eyelash stuck in my eye."

"So he bought that then?" Nick questioned.

"Hell yeah he did. Still, you guys owe me for all that misery. I say that you both have to name your first born after me. I think having a little Gregory Stokes and Hojem Brown running around would be nice."

"Yeah, keep dreaming," Warrick scoffed.

"Okay, fine... I also like the names Eric and Kyle. And if you had a daughter, then you could name her Erica or Kylie… I wouldn't mind."

"Greg!" Nick said, exasperated.

"Okay, okay. But I don't think it's _too_ much to ask," he protested. "You guys didn't have to put up with listening to Ecklie. You got to do the cool spy stuff –speaking of snooping, you guys better have made the pain that I suffered worth it. Did you find anything?" Greg asked.

"You could say that," Warrick said, both his voice and face not displaying any emotions.

"Come on, guys. Tell me!"

Nick couldn't help but grin. He and Warrick had decided before Greg got there that they would pretend at first that their search had been futile, but he couldn't keep a straight face. He was way too happy about what they had found. "Yeah, we found something…" and continued to fill Greg in on what they had located in Ecklie's office. "We made copies of everything. Warrick and I read some of it in Ecklie's office, but for the past hour we have been reading through all the other documents we discovered."

When Nick finished speaking, Greg was completely silent for about five minutes, a record for the young CSI. "Holy shit," he finally said.

"Yeah, my sentiments exactly," Nick agreed.

"So have you decided what to do next?" Greg questioned.

"We were waiting for you actually. Nick and I agreed that you should be in on the decision-making process," Warrick said.

"Really? Wow, thanks. That means a lot," Greg said. "Okay, let's start deciding where to go from here…"

For the next half an hour, the three friends debated and threw out ideas on how to best use the information they had uncovered in Ecklie's office.

"Okay, so we're all agreed?" Nick asked, looking at Warrick first and then Greg to get their acquiescence.

"Sounds good," Warrick said.

"Yep, sounds good," Greg seconded.

When Nick noticed Greg squinting, he asked, incredulous, "Greg, are you trying to blow soup cans off of my head?"

"Uh, yeah… sorry. It's kind of addictive once you start. I'll try to stop…" Greg tried to appear properly chastised.

"Yeah, do that because you're kind of creeping me out," Warrick said.

Ten minutes later, they finished paying their bill for their one beer each (they had to work later that night, after all). "Come on, we have things to do and people to see," Nick said as he stood up from the booth and headed toward the bar's exit.

"By the way, Greg, did Ecklie ever give you any career advice since that's what you asked for in the first place when you got him out of the lab?" Warrick asked as he followed after Nick.

Greg let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, he told me that I should strive to be just like him, and good things will come to me."

Both Nick and Warrick burst out laughing at the irony of it all as the three of them headed back out into the evening…

_xxx_

_Later that evening at Grissom's house (again)…_

"So, tell me again why thousands of women do this?" Sara asked, although she was having a hard time moving her mouth to form the words.

"Hey, try not to move your lips so much. You'll cause cracks," Catherine warned. She had long ago perfected the art of speaking through her teeth with her lips barely moving.

"Cracks are bad, I assume," Sara said aloud. She and Catherine had put on facemasks. Her face felt like it was made of stone. She couldn't believe that she had allowed Catherine to talk her into it. This was _so_ unlike her, but she did say that she would 'go with the flow' for the evening.

They had already finished watching _Love Actually_. Catherine had let the waterworks loose a few times during the movie, and she knew that Catherine had kept glancing over at her (trying unsuccessfully to be inconspicuous) to see if she would shed some tears. She might have shed a couple, but thankfully Catherine hadn't noticed because she was too busy crying herself. She couldn't help but get a bit emotional when it got to the part where Colin Firth's character learned another language so that he could propose to his love interest. It was sweet.

They had also already eaten a couple slices of pizza and drunk a couple of beers.

After the movie, they had painted their toenails. Catherine insisted that she paint her nails although it was something that she had never bothered with in the past. Catherine had brought an entire assortment of OPI's finest colors. She said that the brand had the _best _names of nail polish. _Uh, like it mattered?_ Catherine had picked out 'Thrill of Brazil' while she had picked one at random. It was called 'Hot Pink Pagoda'. She had never considered herself to be a fan of the color pink, but looking at her toes, she did think that they looked good. She wondered briefly, would Gil think that her newly painted toes were sexy? She would have to remember to ask.

Following the nail painting, Catherine had said that it was time for facemasks. She had brought two different kinds. Catherine had chosen the one called 'Rose Garden' while she chose the other, 'Jasmine'.

"You know what, Catherine? You look like a ghost," Sara said, trying not to laugh. Catherine's face was white.

"Well, um, you sort of look like the Hulk with your face green like that!" Catherine countered.

"The Hulk? Oh, God. I'll just say now that I'm thankful that you didn't bring a camera…"

"Oh, I did bring my camera! Thanks for reminding me, Sara" Catherine said as Sara groaned. "Hold on… let me get it out. We'll take a few pictures of us with the masks on… it will be fun," she said as she got up from the couch. A few minutes later, she had an annoyed look on her face. "Damn it. The freaking batteries died. Do you have any extra around here?"

"Uh, no. Not that I know of. Maybe we'll look later…" Like when she didn't have a clay mask on that made her look like the Incredible Hulk. "Isn't it about time to wash this gunk off our faces?"

Catherine checked her watch. "Yeah, you're right. We're a couple minutes behind schedule."

Together, they headed to the guest bathroom to wash off their 'gunk'.

Catherine towel-dried her face and then caressed it. "See, doesn't your skin feel soft… kind of like a baby's butt?"

Since she hadn't actually touched a baby's butt (or remembered touching one), Sara wasn't quite sure how to answer the question. "Uh, my skin does feel soft," she admitted. "So what now? We've done our nails and our face. Anything else you have planned…?" she asked, although she was a bit afraid of the answer.

"Well, we could always braid each other's hair, but I don't think either one of us has hair long enough…"

"Thank God for that," Sara said, under her breath, slowly backing away with a look of horror on her face.

Catherine couldn't help it and she burst out laughing. "Sara, I was kidding. Honest. Why don't we go make those brownies you mentioned earlier? I could really go for some chocolate right now."

"Sounds good to me as long as you make them. I'm afraid I would mess them up," Sara confessed as she followed Catherine into the kitchen.

"Here, you can just watch me, and I'll give you some cooking tips if you want…"

While she watched Catherine find the necessary bowls and pan to bake the brownies in, she grabbed a couple of beers out of the refrigerator for the two of them. She felt like she might need a bit more fortitude for anything else Catherine may have planned for the evening.

Fifteen minutes later, the brownies were placed in the oven. The box said it would take an additional thirty minutes for them to be ready.

"Why don't we listen to some music while waiting for the brownies to cook? Then we can watch _Bridget Jones' Diary _and stuff our face with chocolate brownies," Catherine suggested.

"Sure. You said you brought some c.d.'s?" Sara walked over to the stereo and took out the c.d. she had been listening to the other day; it was Damien Rice's _O_.

"Yeah, Lindsey showed me how to make a mixed c.d. a while back. Got to love technology," Catherine said as she found the c.d. in her bag that she had brought over.

Sara took the disc from her and read the words on the front. "Mom's Sing Along, Dance, and Act Insane C.D.," Sara said out loud with a hint of laughter in her voice.

Catherine let out a small laugh. "Yeah, Linds wrote that. Got to love your kids –or so they say. I told her that I wanted a mix for when I clean house. I'm definitely not a domestic goddess or anything, and music seems to make cleaning toilets and scrubbing bathtubs go faster and more bearable. And, yeah, I might like to dance as I clean…"

Sara smiled. She could definitely see Catherine doing that. She remembered that she would always put on music when she cleaned her apartment, too. "Well, I'm interested in hearing what's on here… or maybe should I say scared?"

"Very funny. It's just some classics," Catherine replied as Bob Seger's "Old Time Rock and Roll" blasted out through the stereo's speakers.

"Oh my God. Wow. This song is old."

"Hey, now! It's a good song. You can't help but dance to it," Catherine said as she began dancing.

Sara just stared in wonder at her friend.

"Come on, Sara. Join me?"

"Uh, I don't know if I'm that great of a dancer," Sara protested.

"Just watch me and do what I'm doing. It's all about the hip action –that drives men crazy…" Catherine said as she began putting a bit of extra 'oomph' into the swing of her hips and began snapping her fingers in time with the music. "Just feel the music."

Sara thought, "Well, I can always blame it on the alcohol –it loosens your inhibitions. And if dancing drove guys crazy, then maybe I can pick up a few tips to try out on Gil. I need to get him to change his mind about the whole 'no sex until my memory returns' policy."

By the time Seger had ended, Sara had begun tentatively copying Catherine's moves. When Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark" began playing she let loose completely and decided to not be self-conscious. She began to just feel the music like Catherine had suggested. "I use to love this song," Sara shouted over the music.

"Yeah, me too. It's the song that gave Courteney Cox her big break."

"Courteney who?" Sara asked, still dancing.

"You know she played on _Friends_? Monica?" Seeing Sara's blank look, Catherine continued, "Oh, never mind."

When John Mellencamp's "Hurts So Good" came on Catherine picked up the remote control and began to use it as a microphone, causing Sara to burst out laughing.

They were both singing along to the song so at first neither of them heard the phone ring. Finally, Catherine said, "I think that's the phone," as she made her way over to the stereo to turn down the volume.

Meanwhile Sara made her way to the phone. Laughing a bit at Catherine's antics (she was still dancing), she answered the phone, "Hello."

"Hey, honey. Is that U2 I hear playing in the background?" Grissom asked.

"Yeah, you're correct. Catherine brought over some c.d.'s that she made, and we were listening to them while we waited for the brownies to bake. How are you?" she asked, smiling as she sat down on the couch. She was happy to hear from him.

He paused for a moment. "I'm more concerned about you. I don't want you overtiring yourself, sweetheart. Is Catherine taking good care of you?"

"I'm fine. Promise. And I don't need Catherine to take care of me, Gil. I can do that myself. We're just having a girls' night."

"Oh, a girls' night?" He wasn't sure what that entailed. It was some sacred tradition that had remained a mystery to every single male on Earth. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the details anyway. "It sounds like you're having a good time. Hey, hold on a second…" Sara could hear another voice in the background and then Grissom came back on the line a few moments later. "Hey, hun. I need to go. I miss you, and I'll try to call you later if I have a spare moment."

"I hope everything's fine. I miss you, too."

"Bye, sweetheart."

"Bye," Sara said into the phone before she hung up. She remained sitting on the couch. Hearing his voice made her think of how much she missed him.

"You said that you hoped everything was fine. Was something wrong?" Catherine asked.

"Oh. Um, I think I heard Nick telling Gil that they were about to go arrest some guy, and he was needed…" Sara said, frowning.

Catherine could tell Sara was missing Grissom so she tried to re-distract her and cheer her up again.

In a few minutes, they were laughing again.

"You know if we had a pole then you could teach me some of your exotic dance moves," Sara said. _Oh, shit. Did I just say that? I cannot believe I just said that out loud!_ She blamed it on the fumes from the nail polish… the alcohol… the fact that she was missing Gil. She had a headache coming on, too. Headaches were known to cause someone to become loopy. _Right?_

Catherine looked at her, startled. "Well, you could always install one in your bedroom…" _Shit! I probably shouldn't be giving Sara any ideas._ She blamed it on the alcohol.

Sara appeared to consider it for a moment and then said, "I don't know if Gil would approve of me drilling a hole in the ceiling…"

Catherine laughed. "Come on, our brownies should nearly be done."

"Hey, Catherine… anything done or said tonight will be filed under the premise, 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas', right?"

"Oh, yeah," the blonde quickly agreed.

The night was still young, after all…

* * *

A/N4: I know that after this chapter this is probably the worst time for me to say this, but I really just need to take a 'break' from Memories. Please, don't start freaking out and think that I'm going to abandon this story because that's FAR from the truth—promise! I started this in November, and I never dreamed that I would still be writing it! So I just need to take a step back and evaluate the story and where I see it going (I'm a planner). I have what I want to happen in my head, I just need to make sure it will mesh well with what I have already. I foresee Memories as being a long WIP.

A/N5: In preparation for posting this chapter, I put on both my raincoat and rain boots. I expect vegetables to be thrown at me (please, no rotten ones)! I assumed that what was in the folders would be revealed but my writing got away from me. Maybe you still enjoyed the chapter? I hope so. Do let me know. I know it's a bit insane, but that's what came to me. Next chapter promises to be eventful: slumber party continues/ends, what's in the folders will (finally!) be revealed, Grissom and Sara will be reunited (yeah!), and possibly the introduction of the new character… Oh, sneak peeks are still happening so why don't you push that little purple button?


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: First I want to thank Grace (**graciebutterfliedgsr**) for the lovely beta job! Secondly, thanks to all of you for the kind comments that you left last chapter AND for your patience. I really had every intention of taking a break. However, my muse decided that "taking a break" was code name for "hit Keegan with a million plot bunny ideas," which is why I went from having four fics to twelve. I do think the break though from Memories was needed. I re-read all 21 chapters, and I have a good outline for what I want to happen in future chapters.

A/N2: I will state for the record her memory will return soon. However, soon is a relative term so keep that in mind as well…

A/N3: Last time I asked about reincarnated animals. My friend and I had this discussion. She wanted to be a panda, and I wanted to be a cow (but only if the cow lived where everyone practiced Hinduism since cows are considered sacred)! Moving on (and away from my insanity). Today's question: Chocolate brownies OR chocolate chip cookies? And no you cannot pick both…

A/N4: One quick note on last night's episode, my muse is highly upset with CSI and TPTB (and she's threatening to start writing for other fandoms)…

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI. I do own Kaplan's LSAT Comprehensive Program 2008 Edition and the soundtrack from the movie, Across the Universe (so if Beatles songs pop up in future fics that's the reason why)…

* * *

_Earlier Tuesday evening…_

Grissom had just arrived at the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Walking past the reception desk, he acknowledged Judy's greeting as he continued to head to his office. He was sure he would have an enormous pile of paperwork to catch up on, although he knew that Catherine had been trying to help him out with some of it while he had been gone. He also had to deal with Ecklie before the shift was over –which was bound to be an unpleasant task.

He opened the door to his office. With his back to the room, he flipped the light switch on. Turning around, he found Nick, Warrick, and Greg sitting on his couch, silently. He definitely was not expecting to see them in his office, especially sitting in the dark.

"Please, don't all explain at once why the three of you are sitting in my office with the lights off and scaring the hell out of unsuspecting persons," Grissom said dryly, as he made his way to his desk chair to sit down.

The three friends looked at each other, wordlessly trying to decide who should start. Warrick and Greg both turned to look pointedly at Nick for the job of explaining to Grissom why they were there and what they had found. After all, it was Nick who had started everything.

"It's about Ecklie…" Nick began speaking. "Really, where else was there to begin?" he thought to himself.

Gil straightened in his chair. "Ecklie?" Realizing that they had heard the rumors about the Assistant Director trying to cause him troubles, he said, "Catherine already told me about what Ecklie has been up to since I have been absent. I'm going to have a talk with him later tonight. Don't feel like you need to worry about it. Okay? Everything will be fine." _At least, I hope it will be…_

"Uh, see that's the thing, Grissom. We kind of –sort of –broke into Ecklie's office this afternoon," Nick started, half afraid of what his supervisor would think.

"What do you mean you _broke_ into his office? What were you thinking?" Grissom yelled. He didn't want his team –his friends –to get into trouble trying to help him. "Start from the beginning," he commanded. "Please?"

"We just wanted to help you," Greg interjected quickly.

"It was all my idea. I talked Greg and Warrick into it," Nick said.

"Hey, man. Don't try to take all the blame here. Greg and I are adults. We could have said no at any point," Warrick countered.

Nick smiled his thanks to his friend for his support before he turned to face Grissom again. "Basically, after I heard that Ecklie was trying to get you fired, I got mad and angry. The guy is a complete ass. I knew if I had an opportunity to search his office then there was a good chance that I could find something on him –to be honest I wasn't sure what I would discover. I just knew that I wanted to find something to give you some ammunition to use against him when he threatened to fire you."

Warrick decided to pick up the narrative. "So, Nick and I searched Ecklie's office while Greg distracted Ecklie by taking him out for lunch…"

"And let me tell you…that was pure hell," Greg said, shuddering at the thought of the bald-headed Assistant Director.

"Guys, I really do appreciate you trying to help me, but I'll figure out a way to handle Ecklie," Grissom said, sighing.

"Grissom, you don't understand. We found something," Nick said as he started to grin.

"Wait…what?" Grissom asked, standing up from his chair in disbelief.

"Yeah, Ecklie is not the choir boy he claims to be," Nick began and filled Grissom in on what they had discovered in the secret compartment of Ecklie's desk.

When Nick had finished, Grissom sat down again. "Holy shit!"

"Yeah, that seems to be the general consensus," Greg quipped.

"So I assume you have some proof that I can see and look at somewhere?" Grissom asked.

"Proof? You want proof?" Nick questioned, his smile growing. He reached to pick up the bag that Grissom had noticed lying beside Nick's feet earlier. Nick got up from the couch and withdrew all the folders and paperwork that he had and placed them on Grissom's desk in front of him. "Do you think this qualifies as enough evidence?" he asked genially.

"Yeah," Grissom said, stunned as he began looking through the papers.

"These are all the copies of everything we found in Ecklie's office. There may be more records at his home. We don't know." Nick was standing by Grissom's desk, too energized to sit down.

"We put the originals back in Ecklie's desk after we finished photocopying the papers. Didn't want to spook or tip him off," Warrick added.

Grissom acknowledged both comments with a wave of his hand as he continued to shift through the pages of papers that Nick had brought him. Silence pervaded the room for the next half hour with Grissom asking an occasional question here and there.

Finally, Nick asked, "So, what do you think our next move should be?"

"First, we should talk to Brass and let him in on what you guys found," Grissom answered.

"Tonight definitely won't be boring," Warrick said, getting up from the couch and stretching his legs.

"Welcome to your first day back, boss." Greg said, grinning.

"One hell of a first day back, that's for sure," Grissom replied.

_xxx_

_A couple hours later…_

Nick and Warrick had just finished explaining to Brass the dirt they had found on Ecklie. Brass exclaimed the now customary, "Holy shit!"

"So now what?" Greg asked.

For the new few minutes, they discussed what their next move would be.

Looking at his watch, Grissom realized he wanted to call Sara to check on her. "Hey, if you don't mind, then I need to call Sara before things get any messier…"

"Yeah, sure. No problem," Warrick said.

"I guess you want us to leave you alone?" Greg questioned. Grissom nodded yes.

"We'll just go make a couple of phone calls ourselves and be back in a few," Brass said as he and the boys headed out of Grissom's office.

Picking up the phone, he dialed home. When Sara answered, he said, "Hey honey. Is that U2 I hear playing in the background…?"

_xxx_

_Late Tuesday Night: At Grissom's house…_

As the ending credits of _Bridget Jones' Diary_ ran, Catherine turned to face Sara on the couch. "So, what did you think about the movie?" she questioned.

"To be honest, it's not a movie that I would have picked out to watch, but I kind of liked it. It was humorous, even slightly cute. Out of the two films, I think I prefer _Love Actually_," Sara replied.

"Yeah, I like _Love Actually_ better as well." Rising from the couch, Catherine stretched her muscles. "What do you say to another brownie? I can't seem to resist when I know that they're in the house, especially ones that are freshly baked. I swear they're saying, 'Eat me! Eat me!'"

Sara laughed. "It does take a lot of will power to say no to chocolate. And tonight I don't think I have any. So, I'll take another one, too. Why not?" Sara tossed aside the blanket that had been covering her so she could get up.

"Don't get up, Sara. I'm already standing so I can go into the kitchen and get us our snacks. Don't worry about it," Catherine said.

"Okay, thanks," Sara said, as she settled against the back of the couch again.

A few minutes later, Catherine returned with two glasses of soymilk, the entire pan of brownies, and a couple of napkins. She sat the pan of brownies down on the table along with her glass of milk then she handed Sara her glass as well as a napkin.

"Thanks. Is there a particular reason why you brought all the brownies in here?"

Catherine grinned. "I thought that I might as well bring the entire pan in case we get hungry again later. This way we won't have to get back up."

"So we'll eat more calories, but we won't take a few extra steps to help combat eating more? Aw, brilliant idea, Catherine. Makes perfect sense to me," Sara joked after taking a sip of her soymilk.

"Very funny. I don't allow myself to indulge too often, but for our slumber party I decided that I would. Besides, I'll make sure I exercise longer tomorrow to make up for tonight's indulgence." Snatching a brownie from the pan, she asked, "So, have you decided?"

"Um, decided what exactly?" _Whether or not I'm going to help her eat the entire pan of brownies? That was still to be determined…_

"Did you decide who you think is hotter –Colin Firth or Hugh Grant?" Catherine clarified.

"Hmmm…" Sara contemplated out loud as she broke off a piece of brownie to eat. Finally, she spoke, "Honestly, I'm not sure if I like either of them…"

"Sara," Catherine groaned. "You're not playing the game correctly…"

"The game?" She arched an eyebrow in question.

"You know I already told you that there were certain rules to be followed at a slumber party. We've already watched the chick flicks, painted out nails, put on our face masks, drank the required alcohol, ate –and are still eating –chocolate… now comes the part where we talk about guys."

"Oh, okay. Fine," Sara said, still unsure about the whole slumber party deal.

"I'll go first. I think that Hugh Grant is hot. Seriously hot. I mean that dance scene in _Love Actually_ was completely hilarious. He's got some major moves. I know I would love to boogie with him any night of the week." Catherine grinned at the thought.

Hearing her friend use the word 'boogie' caused Sara to almost choke on the bite of brownie that she had just swallowed. After coughing a few times and assuring Catherine that she was okay, she cleared her throat. "Um, yeah…the dance scene was amusing," she agreed. "But he was a jerk to Bridget so I deduct points for that."

"Yes, now you're talking, Sara! A point system is a great method to evaluate a guy's hotness level," Catherine said, excitement in her voice. "So, I give Hugh at least twenty points for the dancing, and hmmm… minus twenty-five for being a jerk?"

"Only minus twenty-five? He cheated on Bridget. Come on, Catherine… that at least deserves minus fifty points."

"But if he hadn't cheated on Bridget, then she wouldn't have ended up with Colin. Right?" Catherine asked.

"That's just messed up logic, and it doesn't change the fact that his character was a jerk in the movie," Sara countered.

"But Hugh was a good guy in _Love Actually _so that should count for something in his favor," Catherine protested.

"Well, Colin was a good guy in both films so that should mean double points for him. Right?" Sara couldn't quite believe that she was actually having a 'points' conversation with Catherine. _When in Rome, do as the Romans do?_ "Plus, Colin's character was cheated on in both films…"

For the next ten minutes, they debated the amount of points to be given to each man. Colin was up by seventy points while Hugh was negative twenty.

"Oh, Colin said he liked Bridget just as she was. How romantic is that? I think that it's clear that Colin Firth should be the winner," Sara declared, triumphantly. She found that she was kind of enjoying the debate on this totally useless topic.

"Okay, okay…I think I'll agree with you. But I have a thing for bad boys so I'll take Hugh Grant anyway," Catherine said, smiling. "So that means that you can have your man, Colin."

"He's not 'my' man. Out of the two, I would say Colin is preferable…but seriously neither of them comes close to Gil. Why would I fantasize about some movie star when I have the sexiest man alive at home with me?" Sara questioned aloud.

"Um, yeah why would you?" Catherine asked, rhetorically. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to say or to think. _Hell, I think of Grissom as a brother! _There was absolutely _no_ sexual chemistry between the two of them. Besides even if she had been attracted to him, Grissom only had eyes for Sara from the very moment she came to Vegas. It had just taken Catherine a bit of time to realize that. But, hey, she was glad that Sara considered Grissom to be a hunk. She personally had her eyes on someone a little bit younger.

Catherine was also thankful that by eating some more the 'floaty' feeling from the few beers she had consumed earlier was almost gone. She definitely would need her mind fully functioning so that she wouldn't accidentally reveal something that she wasn't supposed to…

_xxx_

_Early Wednesday morning…_

Grissom knocked and then entered Conrad Ecklie's office.

"Gil Grissom. Just the man that I needed to see," Ecklie stated. "Sit down, sit down," he said, gesturing to a chair that sat opposite of his desk. "I'm going to enjoy making Grissom's night worse, much worse," he thought to himself and grinned.

"No, thank you, Conrad. I won't be here long enough to get comfortable," Grissom replied, still standing.

"You always did think you were better than me. Well, let me tell you…" he began, his voice increasing in volume as he rose from his chair he had been sitting in moments before. He broke off though when he saw his door being opened again. This time Jim Brass came in followed by a deputy.

"What's going on here?" Ecklie demanded.

Instead of answering, Brass headed toward Ecklie and took out his handcuffs. Brass pulled Ecklie's arms behind his back and snapped the cuffs on his wrists. "Conrad Ecklie, you are under arrest…"

"What the hell?" Ecklie screamed, trying to pull free from Brass' grip.

Grissom stepped forward to help Brass control Ecklie, but Ecklie jerked away and spat out, "Don't touch me!"

Brass said aloud, "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…"

The deputy helped Brass control Ecklie who ranted while Brass continued to Mirandize him. It seemed that Ecklie had literally snapped. He spouted off angrily, "You don't know what you're doing. You're making a huge mistake. You'll regret this! I'm the Assistant Director of the Las Vegas Crime Lab…"

_xxx_

_In the interrogation room…_

They had been going around and around, talking in circles for the past two hours. Refusing to say much of anything, Ecklie sat in a chair across from Grissom, separated by a table where he rested his cuffed hands. Brass was standing against the far wall.

"So why did you do it, Conrad?" Grissom asked. It was a variant of the question he had been asking ever since he had escorted Ecklie into the room. "Did you think you would get away with it?"

"Don't act so self righteous, Grissom," Ecklie sneered. "You hold yourself like you are holier-than-thou. Let me tell you, Grissom, you are no better than me. You're the one lying to Sara, pretending that the two of you are married. What is it, Grissom? Did you not think that you could get her into your bed any other way?

"You're going to want to watch what you say, Conrad," Grissom said, alarmingly calm.

Ecklie didn't notice the glint in Grissom's eye. Or the way his hands had balled into fists. Or the barely contained anger that radiated off of him. Instead, he laughed and continued, "You're probably fucking her, aren't you? The really funny thing is that you didn't have to go along with the whole charade. I'm sure that she would have spread her legs for you if you gave her the slightest invitation. It's not like she hasn't done it many, many times before…"

Grissom moved so fast and was out of his chair before Ecklie had any time to defend himself. Ecklie was up against the wall, and Grissom had his hand closed around Ecklie's throat.

Ecklie began sputtering for breath as Grissom squeezed his windpipe.

"Grissom!" Brass yelled. He tried to pull his friend away, but Grissom wasn't budging.

"Leave me alone. Step back, Jim," he growled, intent on making Ecklie regret his words.

Nick, Warrick, and Greg had all been standing in the room next door, watching the interview unfold through the glass. Seeing that Grissom wasn't letting go of Ecklie, they rushed in to offer Brass assistance. They didn't like Ecklie, but they also didn't want their boss going to jail for murder.

"Grissom, you need to let him go," Warrick said.

"He's not worth it. Come on. Let him go," Nick seconded.

"He had _no_ right to speak of Sara that way," Grissom spat out, finally loosening his hand's grip on Ecklie's throat, causing everyone to breathe a sigh of relief as they all thought he was letting Ecklie go finally. After Ecklie gasped for one quick breath, Grissom reapplied pressure to his throat.

"Grissom! Don't!" Greg exclaimed as Nick and Warrick worked to pull Grissom away. When they finally did, Ecklie slumped to the floor, gasping and sucking in air to his oxygen-deprived lungs.

Grissom paced, still furious.

"You just tried to kill me!" Ecklie accused.

Grissom stopped in mid-stride and tossed him a look. "Conrad, if I had wanted to kill you then you would be dead. Trust me."

"Besides, we didn't see anything. Did we?" Nick asked, looking at his friends for their confirmation.

"No. Nothing happened," Greg said.

Finally, Ecklie noticed Greg, his supposed next protégé. _What the hell?_ "Wait, what are you doing here with them? On Grissom's side?" Ecklie questioned as he got up from the floor and began advancing toward Greg.

"I think you better sit down," Warrick said as he and Nick led him, forcefully, to the chair again.

Ecklie glared. "You tricked me! You are all in this together to help Grissom. What's so great about him to inspire this kind of loyalty?" Ecklie questioned out loud, speaking more to himself than to anyone else.

"You'll never understand, Ecklie. Grissom is the man you just wished you could be. The thing is you'll never come close to his repute," Nick stated before he walked out of the room followed by Greg and Warrick.

"Let's get back to why we're here in the first place," Brass said as he took the seat that Grissom had vacated earlier...

_xxx _

_Wednesday morning: At Grissom's house…_

"Sara. Sara…I need to go," Catherine whispered to her sleeping friend. She hated –really hated –to wake her since she was sleeping so soundly, but she didn't want Sara to wake up to an empty house without an explanation.

She knew that she had a really good time hanging out with Sara last night –she was a bit surprised actually how good of a time she had. She and Sara hadn't ever really hung out just the two of them. They had always done things together as a team, but spending some quality one-on-one time with Sara made her rethink some things. She felt that maybe now she and Sara could become closer and better friends. She hoped so, at least. It would be nice to have a close girl friend in Vegas.

Catherine crouched on her knees in front of the couch, where Sara was sleeping. They had crashed on the living room sofas last night. "Sara…wake up. Please," she said, as she placed a hand on Sara's shoulder and shook her lightly.

"Mmm…Gil, let me sleep sweetie," Sara murmured groggily, turning on her side to face the back of the couch.

Catherine grinned, slightly bemused. "Sara! It's me… Catherine," she said loudly, trying to shake Sara awake again.

"Mmm, what…?" Sara turned, opened her eyes, and yawned. "Oh, hey. Wow…I'm tired. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just need to leave. Lindsey woke up feeling sick to her stomach –she probably ate too much junk food at her friend's house last night but, in case it's something more, I want to keep her home from school today," Catherine explained, rising.

Sara sat up on the couch. "Yeah, I understand. Don't worry about me." Looking at the clock, she noted that it was almost seven in the morning. "Gil should be here soon. It's fine," she said, getting up from the couch and standing.

She helped Catherine gather her stuff and walked her to the door. Opening the front door, Sara turned to Catherine and gave her a smile. "Thank you, Catherine, for keeping me company last night. I had fun."

"I did, too. We'll have to do it again. I'll see you soon, Sara. You should go back to sleep," Catherine said before she left.

A few minutes later, she was on her way to pick up Lindsey. "I need to give Grissom a call," she thought to herself.

_xxx_

_Later at the Crime Lab…_

"It's been an interesting night, hasn't it?" Brass asked his friend as they stepped out of the interrogation room.

"Interesting is one way to describe it," Grissom replied with a shake of his head. Over the years, he and Ecklie had some issues but it was still hard to believe that the Assistant Director (or make that _former_ Assistant Director, he thought to himself) was about go to jail for committing felonies.

Ecklie's penchant for keeping records was going to serve as his downfall. During the time that he became an Assistant Director of the Las Vegas Crime Lab, Ecklie had begun to use the public money he was in charge of for personal use, i.e. buying himself expensive things. Nick and Warrick had found papers detailing the dates and amount of money he had taken from the lab's funds. Further, he proceeded to cover up his wrongdoings by falsifying the accounts. Both actions were considered category D felonies.

As if that wasn't bad enough, Nick had also found evidence that Ecklie's assistant had found out what he had been doing. Warrick and Nick went to talk to her, and it took a while but she finally broke down and confessed to what she knew. Ecklie had threatened to hurt her family if she did not keep silent. She had been too scared to come forward because she had a young son, who had some medical problems. Ecklie knew that she and her husband were struggling to make ends meet, so he gave her a check to buy her promise to not tell anyone what he was doing. Coercion was considered a B felony.

Breaking into Grissom's thoughts, Brass said, "Grissom, go home to Sara. Things are close to being finished here."

"Are you sure?" he asked. He missed Sara. He hadn't had a chance to call her again since the first time because he had been busy dealing with the fallout from Ecklie's indiscretions.

"Yeah, go. We can handle it."

"Thanks. I appreciate it," Grissom said.

Ten minutes later, Grissom headed out of the Crime Lab and to his vehicle. He was so ready to go home.

_Home. Sara._ _I can't wait to see her… it doesn't seem possible for me to miss her this much, but I do…_

Another twenty-five minutes later, he was pulling up to his house and parking in his driveway.

_Home sweet home._

He grinned, as he opened the front door. He already knew that Catherine would not be there since she had left him a voicemail saying she had to leave. He couldn't be upset with her anyway, seeing as he was arriving home much later than he had anticipated. It was almost eleven in the morning.

Silence greeted him when he closed the door. He was about to call out Sara's name, but he was afraid that she might have gone back to sleep. He checked the living room first to see if she was lying down on the couch. It was empty. Heading to the bedroom, he opened the door only to find the room vacant as well.

_Where is Sara?_

Growing alarmed, he walked back into the living room and called out, "Sara?"

He heard the back door being opened. "Thank God. She's okay," he thought as he headed toward the door to greet Sara.

Then he saw her.

Her hair was disheveled. Her clothes were dirty, and it looked like she was bleeding.

_Oh my God…_

"Gil," she began but was cut off by him.

"What happened, honey? Were you attacked? I'm taking you to the hospital," he said even as he pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. So tightly that she almost couldn't breathe.

"Gil," she began again when a noise sounded from outside.

"He's still here? Sara, stay back…" Grissom demanded, heading toward the back door.

* * *

A/N5: I sent this chapter to Grace minus the part about what the folders contained because until an hour ago I hadn't decided. I'm not sure what everyone was expecting but hopefully you like what I decided to do. As for the chapter ending, I know everyone loves suspense…And btw is anyone happy that Memories has finally returned??

A/N6: Reviews are welcomed.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: This is completely not beta-ed, so please forgive any mistakes. I had planned on writing a bit more to this chapter (but got sidetracked by an angst story yesterday). However, I'm about to leave (like in the next five minutes) to head out for the weekend. You know that friend who came up in January that I mentioned? Well now I'm going to visit her, which means by the way response back to PMs and reviews will take a bit of time. Basically, I didn't want to make you wait longer for the chapter so what I planned to add onto this chapter will become the start of the next one.

A/N2: To answer the last question of the day I prefer chocolate chip cookies. The new question of the day: When watching shows/movies/DVDs on TV, do you prefer closed captioning or not? (I know random question there!)

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of CSI or its characters. I do claim ownership of the chocolate chip cookies and the four mixed c.d.'s I just made!

* * *

_Earlier: Wednesday morning_

She was bored. After Catherine had left, Sara laid back down on the couch –only intending to rest her eyes for a few moments. She woke up only to realize that she had fallen asleep for close to two hours as it was already after nine in the morning.

Rising from the couch, she walked into their bedroom hoping to find her husband home and asleep in their bed. He wasn't there. After searching for him and calling out his name for a few more moments, she concluded that he wasn't home yet. She tried not to be too sad or too upset. Just because she had two years missing of her life didn't mean that she was unable to remember working long hours when she came to Vegas.

She fought the urge to call him. She knew he didn't need her calling to check up on him but that warred with her need to hear his voice. Frustrated and missing him, she told herself that he would be home soon.

"I'm just going to go take a shower and get dressed for the day. I bet by the time I'm finished Gil will be back home again," she thought to herself.

Twenty-five minutes later, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her to go see if Gil had arrived home yet. He hadn't. He was still MIA. _Damn it._ Grabbing some clothes for the day, she headed to the bathroom to finish dressing. She brushed her teeth and decided to wear her hair down and let it dry naturally.

Walking into the living room again, she noted it was close to ten o'clock. She flipped the TV on for lack of anything better to do. She checked to see if there was anything remotely interesting on –something to distract her from missing Gil so much. After channel surfing for about fifteen minutes, she blew out a frustrated sigh. Deciding the search for something decent on TV was useless, she turned the television set off.

The blankets that she and Catherine had used last night were on the couch. Catherine had already folded hers neatly. Rising from the couch, she put the blankets back into the hall closet where they had been. The living room looked really good. "Catherine must have done some cleaning before she woke me up," she thought as she walked toward the kitchen, ready to clean the dishes used from last night. When she walked into the kitchen, she saw that Catherine had taken care of everything already. She would need to remember to thank her the next time she saw or talked to her.

She was feeling kind of hungry so she thought she would just eat something small to tide her over until Gil got home. Sara also decided that if she didn't see or hear from him by eleven then she was going to call him. She didn't care what kind of wife that made her. She missed him.

Opening the refrigerator, she examined her options for a breakfast snack. She was reaching to grab a grapefruit when she heard a noise coming from outside. It sounded like something was trying to get in. _What in the world?_

She opened the back door and peered out, cautiously.

What she saw made her gasp.

It was a dog or at least she was sure there was a dog somewhere beneath all the dirt. The breed of dog was a boxer, if she was guessing correctly.

She immediately crouched down on the ground and called out, "Come here. Come on, come closer." He was malnourished and obviously a stray. Her heart broke to see him in that condition. She never had a pet before. She wasn't sure if she and Gil had talked about adopting one in the future, but she knew looking into this dog's eyes that she wanted this one. He looked like no one had ever loved him in his life.

Again, she tried to beckon the dog to come closer. However, it seemed like the boxer was leery of humans. He even looked afraid. His previous owners probably had abused him. Unbidden thoughts came into her mind, and she shut her eyes as in to block out the past. Shaking her head, she mentally said no and forced them back. She didn't want to think about those things.

She rose and the dog backed away. _Poor baby._ She crooned softly, "Stay. Okay? Stay right there, and I'll be right back. Promise. I bet you're hungry. Aren't you, boy?" she asked aloud as she opened the back door again. She kept the door half open as she went inside.

Walking into the kitchen where she had been moments before, Sara wondered what the heck she was going to feed the dog. _Hmmm._ Opening the refrigerator, her gaze landed on the pizza box. _Cheese pizza?_ She didn't think it would hurt him. _Thank God for Catherine –yet again._ _I'm going to seriously have to do something for her to thank her._ She grabbed what was left of the pizza, which was only a few slices, to carry back outside to her hungry visitor. When she reached the opened back door, she saw the dog had ventured a bit closer but seeing her, he backed away again.

"It's okay, boy. I brought you some food," she murmured softly to the dog, crouching down again and holding out a slice of pizza in hopes to entice the dog closer. No such luck. He came a bit closer but not by much. He whimpered softly.

Not wishing to torture him, she threw the pizza on the ground near him. After a slight hesitation, he sniffed it once then immediately devoured it and looked back up at her with hopeful brown eyes, making her laugh.

"You liked that? Did you? Here are another couple of slices for you." Again, she tried to tempt the dog to come closer. He came closer but was still out of reaching distance for her to pet him. She tossed the pizza slices closer to her this time, and he came forward after a moment and began to eat it.

The dog apparently decided that she was okay and was feeling appreciative of her because before she knew it and could brace herself the dog pounced on her. His front paws landed on her chest, causing her to lose her balance and she fell flat on her back. The dog began licking her and she began laughing, putting her arms in front of her face to protect herself from dog slobber. Still chuckling, she sat up and reached out the palm of her hand so he could get used to her scent. "Just because you're underweight doesn't mean that you're a lightweight," she teased the dog. "But it's okay though…you didn't mean any harm. You were just playing, weren't you?" Petting him, she talked softly to him, "I knew you would be a friendly dog. I knew it. You just wanted some loving didn't you?" He answered her by licking her again.

"You're getting me all dirty. You do know that, right? I so want to keep you!" she exclaimed. _Surely, Gil wouldn't mind_? Looking at the dog, she did admit that he probably didn't look like he was pet of the year material. He was very dirty. It was probably best if she gave him a bath –before Gil got home. She did realize it was ironic that half an hour earlier she had wanted him to come home and now she was hoping that he wouldn't arrive home any time soon.

"I'm going to give you a bath so that you smell good. Hopefully, I can just use some regular soap? Right? I haven't had a dog before so I wouldn't know. But I want to get you cleaned up so that when Gil comes home he will see a well-behaved, clean dog. He won't be able to resist you. No, he won't," she said as she stood up.

Ready to head back into the house, she heard Gil's voice calling her name. _Now, he comes home. When I'm a mess. Great. _She tried to smooth down her hair. She looked down at her clothes and saw that they were dirty –she tried to wipe off some of the dirt but it just seemed to make it worse. Then, she noticed her arm was bleeding. _How did that happen?_ She looked on the ground and saw a broken clay pot that she must have fallen on when the dog had knocked her down. _Well, at least it didn't hurt…_

"I'll just explain everything to him," she thought as she headed to the back door and opened it.

Before she knew it, she was enveloped in his arms. For a moment, she leaned in, wanting to savor the feel of his arms around her.

Then there was the noise and he told her to stay back.

_He must think someone hurt me, and he's trying to protect me. _Inwardly, she smiled and she felt a glow of warmth from the pleasure of having someone to care so much about her. However, she needed to explain things and quickly so she followed him to the back door. "Gil…"

He didn't respond. "Gil, uh, hold on… um hey," she said as she tugged at his arm.

"Sara, I thought I told you to stay back?" He glanced back, his hand on the door.

"Well, see I was trying to tell you that…" she began but was interrupted by the dog barking. _Oops._

He turned to look at her again, questioning.

She finished, meekly, "I was trying to tell you that a dog showed up and that's why I look like someone attacked me."

"A dog?" he repeated.

"Um, yes," she replied, opening the back door. "He's really sweet. Really quite well mannered."

"Really? And how did you get dirty? And why are you bleeding?" he asked, stepping outside with her.

The dog was sitting with his ears alert, watching warily when he saw Grissom.

"Well, I might have fed him…"

Grissom turned to look at her and she continued, "You can't begrudge him food. Can you? And, well, he was happy to be fed and wanted to show me his appreciation, and I might have lost my balance and fell backwards on a clay pot, which is why I'm bleeding slightly. But it wasn't his fault… not really."

At the thought of the dog jumping on her, Grissom frowned. She was still trying to recover from being badly beaten. "If we keep him…" he began.

Sara interrupted him. "Do you mean it? We can keep him?" she asked, rising from where she had been petting the dog.

"I assume that you were wanting to keeping him?"

"Yes, I really do. I've never had a pet before and just look at him, Gil –he just wants someone to love him…"

He couldn't help but think that she was, in a way, talking about herself. "Honey, if you want to keep him, then that's fine with me," he told her. He wanted to make her happy.

"Really? Thank you! Thank you!" she squealed and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him. She drew back with a smile. "I'm so excited! I was just about to give him a bath. Do you know if I need to use special shampoo or anything?"

"I think you do. Do you want to go to the store to get some pet shampoo and some food? Then I can help you give him a bath. He's a large dog so you might need some help."

"Aren't you tired? I don't want to keep you up when you should be resting," Sara said.

"Honey, I'm fine. I caught a quick power nap at the lab earlier. Besides, I have missed you," he said, placing his hand on her back as they walked back inside the house. "Why don't you change your clothes first and then I can clean your wound before we go?"

An hour later, they pulled back into their driveway. They had purchased shampoo and twenty pounds of dog food along with a food and water bowl. At the store, Grissom had suggested that tomorrow afternoon before he headed into work they could go to a pet store and buy whatever else was needed.

After he finished changing into some older clothes, Grissom met Sara in the living room.

"So how exactly are we going to do this?" Sara asked.

"I have a large pail that we could use to fill with water and soap and some old towels somewhere. This will definitely be an adventure for both of us," he said, smiling at her. "I'll go get everything while you go keep the dog company in the backyard."

The dog had been lying down on the grass but when he saw Sara, he came to her. She bent down to pet him. "Hi, boy. We're going to give you a bath so you'll feel all nice and clean," she told him.

Meanwhile, Grissom had come outside and started to fill the pail with water from the water pump he had in the backyard. He listened to Sara talk to the dog as she explained how he was going to be a good boy and sit still for them to clean him up. He chuckled because it wasn't like the dog really understood what she was saying. But it was cute, and he would give the dog extra credit because he did appear to be 'listening.' _He's probably just charmed by her voice. Not like I can blame him…_

"Okay, let's get him clean," he stated as he carried the bucket of water over and in front of the dog. He was on one side of the dog while Sara was on the other.

He had brought out a couple of old towels and washcloths to use.

Together, they began soaping up the dog with Sara keeping up a steady stream of 'good boy' and 'just sit still.'

"Have you decided a name yet?" he asked, looking at her.

"A name? Well, I thought you would want to decide together. Do you have any suggestions?" she questioned.

"Something manly," he said.

Sara laughed. "So I guess that rules out Cookie? "

"Um, definitely. What about Rocky?"

"Eh, I don't think so. What about Beau?"

"Geronimo?"

"Ace?"

"Gomer?"

"Um, no thank you. Hoover?"

"Gooch?"

"Gooch the pooch?" Sara asked, laughing. They were just throwing out ridiculous names for the fun of it. "Guru?"

"Zorro?"

"Romeo? Casanova?"

"Bear?"

"Jasper?"

"What about Bruno?" Grissom suggested after a few minutes of thought.

"Bruno? Hmmm…he _does_ look like a Bruno to me. I like it. I really do." She asked the dog, "Do you like it? Bruno?" The dog barked loudly and thumped his tail. Sara grinned over the dog and told Grissom, "I think he likes his name, too."

They had already finished soaping up the dog and were now focused on washing all the soap off of him.

Sara reached into the bucket with the washcloth she was using and it fell, splashing Grissom. "Oops. Sorry," she said, sheepishly.

"You did that on purpose," he pretended to be upset.

Sara, however, was getting used to this playful side of her husband and just laughed. She replied, "No. That was an accident." She continued with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "But…" she reached into the pail again, "this is not one," she said playfully as she threw more water on him.

Grissom looked down at his wet shirt and looked back up at Sara. "So that's how it's going to be, huh?" he asked as he tossed the washcloth he held back and forth between his hands.

She smirked. "You wouldn't dare…"

"Oh, oh…I wouldn't dare? Careful with your word choice, honey. Anyway… I think…" he paused thoughtfully and then continued, "that two can play this game," as he splashed her with water, causing her to shriek.

"I can't believe you just did that!" she exclaimed before she began to laugh. She picked up a washcloth that was on the ground beside her, dipped it back into the water, and flung it at him. It landed –sopping wet –on his head before falling to his shoulder. She got up and started to run away, afraid of the repercussions of her actions.

He followed and chased after her. The dog joined in on the fun, barking and running around as well.

When Grissom finally caught her, the dog managed to trip them. As they were going down, he made sure that he took the hard fall –landing on his back with her on top of him.

He reversed their positions. He looked down at her; she stared up at him.

"Let me up?" she asked, breathlessly. "Please?"

"Only if you apologize first…" he teased

"Apologize? You got me back so I say that we're even," she replied, her eyes narrowing. "You…" she began.

He cut her off, "Shhh." Studying her face, her cheeks flushed from the adrenaline and her nose scrunched up. Her eyes –God, her eyes –were beautiful and sparkled with mischief. She was so lovely.

"Shhh… what? Why?" she asked confused.

Deciding to silence her in a much more pleasurable way, he leaned down to kiss her.

After a brief moment of surprise, she kissed him back and wrapped her arms around him.

Finally breaking their kiss, he saw that she was looking up at him with a questioning look in her eyes. "You are so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful," he said as his lips descended once more to reclaim her lips.

Meanwhile, the newly named Bruno however was feeling neglected and decided to recapture his new owners' attention by shaking his wet fur all over them.

"BRUNO!" Grissom yelled a second later, rising and then extending his hand to help Sara up.

Sara was laughing. "If we already didn't smell bad, then we definitely do now," she said.

"Yeah, I don't think anyone is going to bottle and sell the 'wet dog' smell anytime soon," Grissom joked.

"Why don't you go ahead and take a shower? I'll finish up here with Bruno and feed him as well," she suggested.

"Are you sure you can handle that?" he asked. Though truthfully he was feeling his energy level decline. The need to sleep was becoming a lot more pressing.

"Yes. Go clean up," she said, giving him a quick kiss before he walked back into their house.

Twenty minutes later, Sara left Bruno happily munching away on food in the kitchen. At the store, she and Gil had decided that they would let Bruno be an inside dog.

"Uh, I need to shower," she thought as she made her way into the master bedroom. At the sight that greeted her, she smiled. Gil was lying face down, freshly showered and sprawled half under the covers. _He must have been so tired…_

Quickly and quietly she grabbed some clothes to change into and headed into the guest bathroom to take a quick shower.

Another twenty minutes later, she returned to their bedroom and found him still asleep. She wasn't tired, but she did want to be near him. Sliding into bed, she faced him and watched as he slept, thinking that she was so lucky to have him in her life.

Later, she awoke to find herself in his arms. _I must have fallen asleep._ The room was dark. _What time is it?_ She turned to look at the bedside clock and found it was almost six o'clock. _Gil needs to be getting up soon._ She hated to have to wake him.

Stroking his arm, she kissed him –softly –awake until he responded.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. They were a bit bleary. He smiled. "Hi. Did I fall asleep on you? I'm sorry…"

"Yeah, but there's no need to be sorry because I fell asleep, too. Besides, you really needed your sleep since you have to go into work tonight. It's about six so I thought I should wake you up?"

"Thanks. I didn't set any alarms so I'm glad you did…otherwise I would be very late to work." Getting up and out of bed, he said, "While I get dressed for work, why don't you think about what you would like for me to make you for dinner?"

"You don't have to worry about cooking me anything if you just want to grab something for yourself before you head into work," she said, getting up as well.

Grissom just gave her a look as if to say to not argue with him.

Twenty minutes later, she was sitting at the kitchen bar watching her husband make chocolate chip pancakes, which was what she requested when he asked her again what she wanted.

"So, I just realized that I haven't asked yet but how was work last night?" Sara questioned a few minutes later as they began to eat their dinner.

He finished his bite of pancake and took a sip of his drink before answering her. "It was interesting and quite revealing actually."

"Really? How come?"

As they ate, Grissom filled her in on the events from last night at work.

She took both their plates when they were finished eating into the kitchen and placed them in the sink. Turning around to look at him, she opened her mouth to speak when he interrupted her.

"Yeah, I know… holy shit," he said. "Right?"

"Actually, I was going to say something else but yeah that works, too. As much as I can remember I never did like him…"

In his mind, he flashbacked to the interrogation room and to what Ecklie had said about Sara. His hands clenched reflexively. He had no intention of bringing up Ecklie's words of hatred so he firmly pushed Ecklie out of his mind.

Stepping toward her, he kissed her gently and then said, "I never liked him either, and he'll be going to jail for a long time…just like he deserves."

* * *

A/N3: So I hope you don't mind my evil "cliffhanger" from Ch.22 and weren't too upset to find out that it was "just" a dog. Hey, I like to add suspense to the story. What can I say? Anyway, I hope you liked this very Bruno-centric (he will always be Bruno to me, sorry people!) plus lots of GSR chapter. Reviews are loved and adored. Sneak peeks will be sent out as soon as possible.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Welcome back to the regularly scheduled program of _Memories, A Wedding Ring, and Love Along the Way_! So, it's been a while (there are many reasons why and most are quite valid). I've really missed my readers, and I hope that you have missed me/my story as well.

A/N2: I should mention that this chapter is not beta-ed, so I apologize for any mistakes. Also, this is my longest chapter to date (5,812 words to be exact, not counting my author's notes) so please enjoy!

A/N3: To answer the last question of the day, I seem to be in the minority because I like Closed Captioning.

Disclaimer: Nothing has changed. I still do not own CSI.

* * *

_Thursday mid-afternoon…_

They collapsed exhausted onto the living room couch. They had just gotten back home from their trip to PETCO. Sara hadn't wanted to leave Bruno by himself, so they had taken him along since most pet stores sought to accommodate pet owners by allowing them to bring their animals with them. That had been nearly three hours ago.

"Wow. That was an experience," Sara said, turning her head to face Grissom. Her body was too tired to move.

"You could say that," he replied, without turning toward her.

To give Bruno credit, he had behaved extremely well. He was friendly towards everyone he met. The little kids absolutely adored him, as he would just sit perfectly still while they petted, poked, and prodded him. Still, they had walked the store at least a half a dozen times before Sara was satisfied with their purchases. She had wanted to make sure that Bruno got everything he needed.

"So, do you think we got enough for Bruno?" he joked.

She absently stroked Bruno's head that was resting on her knee. "If we didn't, then we can always go back," she stated.

He finally turned to look at her, wondering if she was serious. They had practically bought out the entire store –well, at least the dog section of PETCO. They had purchased two leashes (in case one got lost somehow) and two collars, a dog tag with Bruno's pertinent information, a gazillion toys, doggie treats galore (literally), half a dozen books on boxers and training dogs (Sara had said reading would occupy her for a few days until she went back to work, plus she was determined to learn all about the breed), a dog pillow, and a dozen other things that his brain was too tired to remember.

Bruno was definitely going to be king of the castle; Grissom could already foresee it.

It had taken them three trips to bring in all the stuff they had purchased, and all of it was currently sitting in the middle of the living room floor because they were both too drained to unpack anything at the moment.

Surveying all they had bought, Grissom sighed and then yawned.

"Are you tired?" Sara questioned.

"Yeah, somewhat."

"Why don't you lie down on the couch for a little while and rest?" she suggested. "You have a few hours before you have to go to work," she continued as she got up so he could stretch out on the sofa.

"Hmmm…okay," he replied, his eyes already drooping closed, as he stretched out and shifted his body until he got comfortable.

Sara spent a few minutes putting away some of their purchases, careful to be quiet. She opened a couple of chew toys for Bruno to play with and fed him as well. "Be quiet, okay? Your owner needs his sleep before he goes to work tonight," she whispered to the pooch.

Leaving Bruno eating in the kitchen, she made her way back into the living room. She set her cell phone alarm for six-thirty and then stretched out on couch with her back pressing against his front. She pulled his arm around her and her eyes drifted shut.

_xxx_

_Friday early afternoon…_

"Gil?" Sara asked, breaking the silence. They were taking Bruno for a walk around the neighborhood, enjoying the pleasant weather and each other's company. She was also trying to regain some of her energy back. She noticed that she still got tired very easily and was hoping that by walking she could help build up her stamina again.

Grissom had control of Bruno's leash with one hand while he held Sara's hand with his other one. "Yes?"

"What do you think about inviting the team over tomorrow maybe? The weather's supposed to be nice, and I thought it might be fun to have them over. They can meet Bruno…and actually I don't know…have they even been to our house before?" she trailed off, unsure.

Wanting her to not get upset, he quickly agreed. "Catherine has been by a couple of times and so has Greg. The others haven't had a chance to yet, but this sounds like it will be a good opportunity for them to do so. It's okay with me."

Sara smiled at him. "Okay, great." She took a deep breath before she continued. "To be honest, I'm a bit nervous about returning to work…" she began.

He interjected, concerned. "Sara, honey… you don't have to return to work on Monday. In fact, maybe you shouldn't …I don't want you to come back before you're ready."

"Gil, I want to…I need to. It's going to be weird to return in a way…when I don't remember things. I don't know. I just thought that having our friends over on Saturday would be a nice distraction." She kept it to herself that she was kind of nervous about going back to work because it she was at work when she got hurt. However, she wasn't one to let her fears keep her down, so she was determined to return to the lab.

"Okay. I trust you, but just know that if you change your mind about going back to work on Monday, then I'll be okay with that," he said, squeezing her hand before he changed topics. "I'll invite everyone tonight when I go into the lab. We can have them come over around four or maybe five o'clock? And tomorrow when we get up, we can go to the store and buy anything that we'll need. Maybe we can grill out or something. You can think about it tonight."

"Sounds good. I'll see what I can come up with for our menu for tomorrow." They were now back in front of their house again. "Want to go around another time or head inside?" she questioned.

"Inside. I need to shower and get ready for work tonight before too much longer…"

_xxx_

_Friday late evening…_

The front doorbell rang, startling Sara from her position on the couch. She had been lying down reading a book on boxers while Bruno lounged on the floor beside her. Placing the book down on the coffee table, she got up from the couch and made her way to the door. She was still awake because she was trying to stay on Grissom's schedule, plus she was going to go back to work next week so she wanted to get her body re-adjusted.

Bruno had been awakened by the buzzing noise of the doorbell and, already a protector at heart, he barked and immediately followed her to the front door, almost tripping her a couple of times in his haste to stay with her.

She hadn't been expecting any visitors tonight, so she checked the peephole first. Seeing who it was, she smiled as she quieted Bruno. With a retraining hand on the canine, she opened the door.

Before she was able to greet her visitor, she was enveloped in a bear hug. "Sara, you're looking great. It's good to see you again," Brass said as he released her.

"Come in, get comfortable," she said as she motioned him inside.

"Thanks," he responded, stepping into the house.

Closing the door, she said, "It's nice to see you as well."

Bruno, meanwhile, began inspecting the new arrival. Brass stretched out his hand and allowed the dog to first catch his scent. "When did you two get a dog?" he asked, as he began petting the canine.

"His name is Bruno and, actually, he showed up kind of unexpectedly Wednesday when Gil was still at work. I really wanted to keep him, and Gil was okay with it…so now we're pet owners." She smiled brightly. "He's our very first pet."

Together, they headed into the living room followed by Bruno. Sara sat on one end of the couch, one leg bent and tucked under her, while Brass sat on the opposite end. "I wasn't expecting company tonight so this is a pleasant surprise," she told him.

Prior to coming over, Brass had already decided to not tell Sara that Grissom had casually hinted that maybe he should go visit Sara. Grissom had given him directions, which he just happened to have written down and stuck in his pocket. All Brass had done was reply that he could definitely do that, but inwardly he smiled at his friend's protectiveness of Sara –it was about damn time.

Besides, it wasn't a hardship to come see Sara. He had wanted to anyway. He thought of her as a daughter, and he wanted to 'investigate' and see how things were truly going, make sure that Grissom was treating her right. "Yeah, I wanted to come see you. Grissom invited me over to dinner here tomorrow night, and I'm planning on coming. I just knew that tomorrow everyone's going to monopolize your time and I wanted to spend some time with my favorite girl. And see if you needed anything?"

She smiled at his concern. "Well, I'm glad you decided to come by and that you're going to come tomorrow. The house seems so empty without Gil here," she said, tucking a stray strand of hair back behind her ear.

_Ah, an opening to ask about 'things' between Grissom and her._ "So, he's taking care of you like he should, right?"

"Yes. He's great. He's so sweet and attentive…" Her voice trailed off. She wasn't really sure what all she should say because she didn't remember any of her dating or married life, so she didn't know what Brass knew. She decided to just keep things simple. "Things are good. Really good," she repeated and smiled secretly.

He returned her smile. She seemed happy, and that's exactly what he wanted to hear.

_xxx_

_Saturday mid-morning…_

She woke to find herself trapped, unable to move. She panicked for a moment before she realized that she was in bed with her husband. She smiled at the thought as she turned to face him and snuggled closer to him.

She was lightly running her fingers up and down his back when his blue eyes opened. "Good morning, beautiful," he whispered, leaning forward to give her a leisurely kiss.

"Good morning to you," she replied back.

"How long have you been up?"

"Just a few minutes." She yawned.

"Don't do that, or I'll start yawning, too," he joked.

"Sorry."

"It's okay." He smiled. "Are you ready for company this evening?" he questioned.

"I'm excited that everyone said they would be free to come over. But it seems like I have so much to do… we still need to go to the store and buy food for tonight and for the week. Then I want to make sure that the house looks perfect…and yeah I need to be getting up right now and not lying in bed," she said in a slightly stressed voice, rising from the bed.

Grissom got up from the bed as well. "Sara, honey. Don't worry about the house. They're not going to be inspecting to see if there are dust bunnies hiding…"

"You don't know that! Besides, it's going to be the first time that Nick and Warrick are over here… and I don't know, Gil!" She threw up her hands in the air. "I just wanted everything to go well and for everyone to have a good time," she said quietly. She realized that she was being slightly emotional, but she was just stressed because so far she hadn't had any memories come back. And she was worried, and she was trying –so hard –to remain positive.

He didn't like seeing her upset. "Everything will be fine." When she looked at him skeptically, he repeated the words, "Everything will be fine, Sara. When I invited the team over last night, they _all _said that they were looking forward to coming over. They're coming to see you, not to look for how spotless the house is. Now why don't you to take a shower while I make some breakfast for us? What if I make you some chocolate chip pancakes?" he suggested, kissing her lightly.

"You think chocolate will solve everything? Mmm?" she asked.

"Well…they're your favorites," he replied back, unsure if she was teasing or not. "Plus, the whole endorphins thing…"

She grinned. "I'm just teasing, sweetie. Pancakes sound wonderful. Thank you," she told him before she headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

Forty-five minutes later, they were on the road and heading to the store to pick up some much-needed groceries, as they were running low on several things.

After parking the vehicle, Grissom got out and opened the door for Sara. "Thanks," she said, placing her hand in his as they walked to the store's entrance.

This was the first time he had been grocery shopping with Sara. It was a 'small' thing maybe but still, to him, it was kind of major. He had always shopped alone. He had always bought groceries for just himself. Now, he was buying for two. For him and her. It was nice, he thought as he prepared himself to enjoy the moment.

When they grabbed a buggy, he offered immediately to push it around the store, leaving Sara free to place things that she wanted in the cart.

He tried to keep himself from grimacing slightly as Sara threw things in at random. Whenever he went to the store, he always had a list made and would take his time carefully crossing off the items he had gotten. He never veered from the list. Never. Apparently, he was learning –quickly –that this was not Sara's particular method of grocery shopping.

It was something he could get used to though, he thought.

Later, in the freezer aisle, he couldn't keep from smiling as Sara stood with the glass door opened, trying to decide which ice cream flavor to choose. She was muttering under her breath something about the difficulties of some decisions.

He didn't often buy ice cream. Sometimes though he was in the mood for something sweet. When he was, he would purchase a pint of vanilla ice cream. Plain vanilla. No chocolate swirls or caramel chunks thrown in. He recognized that some people would consider his ice cream choice to be somewhat boring. Grissom also realized life with Sara (and her non-Vanilla ice cream buying ways) was going to mean that never again would his life be considered dull. Or plain. And, for the life of him, he couldn't find any damn thing wrong with that particular picture.

"What do you think?" she inquired when she noticed him staring at her. "Dublin Mudslide? Or Half Baked?" She held up both in her hands.

"Why don't you get both?" he suggested, helpfully.

"Well…because there's a whole lot of calories…"

He just raised his eyebrows to indicate he thought she was crazy to worry about calories when he thought she was stunning just as she was.

"Okay, you talked me into it," she said, sighing as she placed both pints into the crowded buggy. "You better help me eat some of this," she warned.

"Whatever you say, honey."

She smirked. "Don't get smart with me," she teased back.

He pretended to be shocked that she would suggest such an atrocious act. "Never," he responded back in the same tone.

"Uh huh. So, I think we're almost finished. We just need to go through the produce section, and we'll be ready to leave. Right?"

"Yeah. Sounds good," he agreed.

In the fruits and vegetable area, Sara went around gathering the items that were needed for the cookout and for the week ahead. "Why don't you stay here with the buggy, and I'm going to grab some bread and pitas," she said before she walked away.

After finding what she wanted, she began walking back toward Gil, passing along the way an elderly couple. The man had his hand resting on his wife's back and he was smiling down at her. She was turned to him, looking up at him with a look of love and happiness. They were saying something to each other, but Sara couldn't quite make out the words. The couple had to be at least eighty years old (or older), and they were obviously still so in love with each other. It was lovely to see, and she smiled while she thought that could be her and Gil in the future.

Grissom, meanwhile, had spotted Sara making her way back to him and decided to walk over to her. Her head was still partly turned toward the elderly couple so she didn't see him come up behind her. When he placed an arm around her waist and whispered a greeting in her ear, she jumped and turned around. "You scared me," she said, swatting at him.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to. What's so captivating?" he asked.

The older couple had moved on so she replied, "Nothing…I just got distracted for a moment."

"Oh, okay. Um, so are we finished?"

"Yeah. Let's hope we can find a short checkout," she responded as she followed him to the front of the store.

Fifteen minutes later, they were finally able to place their grocery items onto the checkout belt. While waiting for the customer ahead of them to finish paying, Sara noticed the disposable cameras that were displayed at the end of the checkout aisle. She picked up two to purchase. "I wanted to take some picture of Bruno. And I thought that we could start adding to our picture collection…" she explained.

He tried not to wince at his lie that their pictures had been lost in the move.

_xxx_

Back home, nearly an hour later, they were both in the kitchen putting away the purchased food. Bruno had greeted them at the door. "You can go sit down, honey. You don't have to help," Grissom said.

"Gil, I'm not fragile. I think I can manage to put away a few boxes of pasta without overdoing it," she replied.

"Okay, okay. Would you like anything for lunch? I'm not hungry but I could make you something," he offered. "I told everyone to come about five o'clock, and I'll probably start grilling out soon after they arrive."

"I'm still kind of full from breakfast. I might eat a rice cake though after we finish putting everything away."

After they finished their task, Grissom started doing some prep work for their dinner while Sara munched on her snack. The menu for the evening would consist of grilling out some veggie k-bobs along with some black bean burgers. They had bought three different types of potato chips as well as some French Onion dip (for the plain Lays). Other things, they already had. Catherine had called before they had gone to the store and said she would bring over a couple of sides. He began preparing a marinade for the veggies and then chopped up the peppers, zucchini, squash, and onions for the k-bobs.

Sara had picked up some Nestle Tollhouse Break and Bake Chocolate Chip Cookies to make. She had been determined to make something for the dinner. While Grissom did his thing, she got out the package of cookies and began placing them on a cookie sheet that she had sprayed. She had also already turned on the oven at the designated time of three hundred and fifty degrees. A few minutes later, it was preheated and she slid the cookies in. "Gil, will you promise me something?" she questioned after she shut the door to the oven.

"Hmm? Yes. Of course," he replied, turning his head to look at her.

"If I burn these cookies, then you'll pretend with me that I never tried to bake them… right?" She smiled as she asked.

He started chuckling. "Sara, don't worry. I'm sure the cookies will turn out to be perfect."

"Well, I appreciate your apparent faith in my cooking abilities," she said, smiling as she made her way over to him. "Need any help?"

"If you want to then you can start placing the veggies on some skewers," he suggested.

Less than ten minutes later, the cookies were out of the oven (smelling delicious and looking great, she thought with a huge sigh of relief) and Grissom had placed everything back in the refrigerator that needed to be put back.

Sara insisted that the carpet needed to be vacuumed so Grissom did that while she dusted and straightened up a few things in the living room for the next half hour. She also lit some candles so the house would smell good.

"Is there anything else you would like for me to do, honey?" he asked while sincerely hoping that she would say no. He had just finished taking out the garbage.

She teased him by appearing to be deep in thought for a few moments. Finally, she said, "No. I think that's it. Thank you for all the help," as she closed the distance between the two of them and wrapped her arms around his neck before she gave him a quick kiss. "Why don't we sit on the couch and relax until our company arrives?"

"Sounds like the perfect plan to me," he replied, leading her to the couch. They flipped on the television set for some background noise.

Greg arrived first, thirty minutes later, quickly followed by Catherine and Brass. Nick arrived a few minutes later.

Nick brought her flowers –a colorful assortment of Gerber daisies. "Hey, Sara. It's good to see you again," he said as he handed her the bouquet.

She hugged him. "Thank you! You shouldn't have done brought my flowers. They are lovely though." She made her way into the kitchen so that she could put the daisies into a vase and some water.

"I wanted to bring you some fresh flowers for the house since I was pretty sure that the ones you received earlier had died or were about to die," Nick explained.

"Yeah, they were dying so I got rid of them yesterday actually," she responded back as she filled a vase with some water, placed the flowers in it, and arranged them 'artfully.' She didn't mention that she had dried some of the tulips and irises that Gil had gotten her in an old, heavy book. She wanted to keep them to treasure always.

Walking back into the living room with Nick, she saw that Warrick had come in and was getting acquainted with Bruno. When he spotted her, he walked over and gave her a hug. "Hey, thanks for the invitation."

She smiled. "Thanks for coming."

Bruno easily captivated everyone's attention, and Sara told them the story of how they had come to own the dog.

After a couple more minutes, Grissom asked, "So are all of you getting hungry? Do you want me to start cooking? I have had the grill heating up…"

"My stomach will probably start grumbling if I don't feed it soon," Greg joked while the others agreed that they were getting hungry as well.

Everyone began heading outside. Brass helped Grissom carry out the food to be cooked while Catherine helped Sara by grabbing other things to take outside.

The backyard of Grissom's house was nice and big. There was a patio table and chairs so that they could eat outside and enjoy the pleasant Las Vegas weather.

All the men gathered around Grissom, since grilling was supposedly a male's forte. They made jokes back and forth while the girls had their own conversation.

Thirty minutes later, they were all seated at the table piling their plates with food.

"It all looks great," Brass said, popping open the tab of his soft drink.

After taking a huge bite out of his burger, Nick swallowed before saying, "This burger is actually pretty good, Sara."

She smiled as she replied, "I'm glad you like it."

"So, Sara. Are you coming back to work next week?" Greg asked. "I miss you."

"Yeah, I plan to come back Monday actually. And it will be nice to return to work," she replied.

"Well, I know that all of us will definitely enjoy having you back. It hasn't been the same without you at the lab," Warrick said. "We might have to break out the champagne Monday night," he joked, causing everyone to laugh.

Later, when everyone was working on his or her second platefuls, Sara stood up suddenly.

"What's wrong?" Brass asked, concerned.

"Nothing. I'll be right back," she said before leaving to head back into the house with Bruno following in her footsteps.

She came back a few seconds later with the two disposable cameras she had bought, placing them on the table.

Catherine raised her eyebrow in question.

Reclaiming her seat, she explained that she had picked them up at the store earlier. "We, uh, lost a lot of pictures during the move..."

"So, that's how he decided to play the lack of wedding photos," Nick thought to himself while Catherine thought, "Nice save, Grissom." The team remained silent.

Sara continued, "I thought it would be a good opportunity to build up our picture collection of all of us as a team as well. Anyway, I was just going to keep the cameras out and people can snap pictures whenever they want…"

Greg reached for a camera and smiled mischievously. "Sara, Grissom. Ready for your close-up?" he joked.

"Um, well… okay," Sara said, leaning her head a bit closer to Grissom and placing a smile on her face after she saw that he had done the same.

"No, no…that's all wrong," Greg declared dramatically. "Closer!" he demanded.

Catherine rolled her eyes. Sara sighed heavily. Grissom pulled her seat closer to him. She angled her body more towards him. "Good enough?" she asked through a smile.

Enjoying the moment of photographic greatness, he said, "No."

"Fine, how about now?" she questioned after she stood up and sat in Grissom's lap, placing an arm around him. He immediately wrapped one of his arms around her waist to keep her steady.

Greg smiled. "Perfect," he declared and snapped their picture.

xxx

Warrick had gone inside to help Catherine as she put away the food and cleared some of the dishes that they had used.

Sara was in the middle of the yard with both Nick and Greg. They were all laughing at Bruno's antics as they played with the dog.

Grissom was standing and talking with Brass.

"She's looking better," Brass said.

Grissom turned to briefly glance at his friend before returning his attention to Sara. "Yeah, she's doing better. The bruises have faded, thankfully. It's just that the memories…her memories haven't come back yet…"

Brass was interrupted from what he was about to say when Catherine and Warrick came back outside and joined them. They began discussing some of the latest case details and Grissom tuned them out and focused his attention on Sara again.

She looked up and caught him staring at her. She smiled and waved before she turned to say something to Nick and Greg. Greg said something funny back, and she laughed and began making her way toward Grissom. When she reached him, she placed an arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. "Are you having fun?" she asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. It's been a nice day," Grissom said.

"Good, I'm glad." She continued quietly, "I just wanted to say thank you."

He looked down at her, frowning slightly. "For what?"

"For saying that it was okay that the team came over, for doing all of the cooking practically… for being you," she replied, looking up at him with a smile in her eyes and on her face.

Greg ruined the moment by calling out, "Hey, Grissom! Do you have any cards?"

He glanced up and toward the younger CSI. "Cards?"

"Playing cards. Well, two decks of cards actually," Greg explained.

"Yeah, I have some. Why?"

"I thought we could play Bullshit," he grinned.

By now, they were all standing together in a semi-circle outside. "You just want to play that so that you can say a 'bad' word," Nick declared.

"Well…maybe so," Greg said. "It's still a good game to play. What does everyone say? Want to play?"

Everyone agreed. "I'll go grab the cards, I guess. Anyone need anything?" Grissom asked.

"Why don't you bring out the chocolate chip cookies that I saw in the kitchen earlier?" Nick suggested.

"Oh, I forgot I made those," Sara said.

"You made them?" Greg gulped. "Um…"

Sara glared at him. "They looked and smelled great, Greg. I'm not that terrible of a cook." _Or, well, I don't think I am…I haven't set anything on fire before…_

"They're the break and bake kind from Nestle Tollhouse," Grissom said, as if that made everything better.

"Oh, well…then okay. Surely you can't mess up Tollhouse cookies, right?" Greg joked.

Nick leaned toward Greg and whispered, "Um, you should probably shut up now before Sara hits you." Then he said louder, "I'm sure they'll be great, Sara."

"Thanks, Nick. I knew there was a reason I always liked you better than Greg," she joked.

Grissom came out a few minutes later with cards and cookies and took a seat next to Sara. After he placed the cookies in the middle of the table and handed Greg the deck of cards, he said, "So… I have one question, Greg."

"Yes?" Greg asked.

"How exactly do you play Bullshit?"

_xxx_

"I just wanted to say that I'm glad everyone was able to come," Sara said as she and Grissom walked their friends to the front door.

"Thanks for inviting us. I had a lot of fun." Nick smiled. "Especially kicking Greg's butt in Bullshit."

"Hey, now… that's not very nice rubbing it in my face," Greg protested.

Everyone laughed while Sara yawned.

"Well, I think we should start heading out since it's late. And it looks like you're tired, Sara," Catherine stated. "We'll see both of you Monday night."

Everyone said final goodbyes and gave hugs to Sara. "Travel safely," Sara requested before they left and got into their separate vehicles.

Shutting the front door, Sara said, "That was fun," as she yawned yet again.

"Honey, you're exhausted. Why don't you head to bed?" he suggested. "I'll be there in a few minutes; I'm just going to make sure that Bruno has water and clean up a few things."

"Thanks. I think I'll do that." Giving him a quick kiss goodnight, she said, "Night. Don't be too long," before she walked away.

Fifteen minutes later, he walked into their bedroom to find her asleep. He wondered fleetingly when did he quit thinking of it as 'his' bedroom and start thinking of it in terms of 'their' bedroom? Still, it felt right. Quickly and quietly, he finished his nighttime routine and crawled into bed beside her, curling his body toward her and pressing a soft kiss to her exposed shoulder before he fell asleep himself.

_xxx_

_Monday mid-morning…_

Sara woke up with Gil's arms around her. Instead of staying in bed like she normally would, she got up and grabbed some clothes and headed to the bathroom. She didn't want to think about how nervous she was to return to work tonight.

It wasn't that she didn't want to go back. She did. She missed Gil when he was at work. She missed her friends. Still, she worried that she might mess something up or make some big mistake accidentally.

And if she was completely truthful with herself, then she would admit that that wasn't what was bothering her the most. Deep down, she was hoping that by being back in the lab it would help trigger her memories. So far, she hadn't had any luck with recalling any flashbacks of any sort. And the thing that was freaking her out the most was what if she went back to the lab and nothing happened. No flash of memory? Then what? What if her memories would never return? What if she had truly lost two years of her life?

Blowing out a deep, frustrated breath, she stepped into the shower and closed her eyes, determined to think positive thoughts about everything. _Everything would be okay. It just had to be…_

When she stepped out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, Grissom was just getting up. "Good morning." She smiled.

"Hey, honey. Did you sleep well?" he asked. She had fallen asleep last night while they had been watching a movie on the TCM channel.

"Yeah, sorry for falling asleep on you. And I'm sorry you had to carry me to bed…you should have just woken me up."

"I didn't want to wake you. You were sleeping so peacefully."

_xxx_

_Later…_

They had just pulled into the lab's parking lot. Grissom parked, unbuckled his seatbelt, and got out of the car. Sara remained seated, sitting silently and staring straight ahead.

Opening the passenger side door for her, he held out his hand.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to him, giving him a small smile.

"Sara, you'll be fine. Everything will be okay," he said as he helped her out of the vehicle.

"Okay," she replied. "It will." She hadn't explained to him what was really bothering her, but he did know she was stressed out.

Grissom stopped her before she moved forward and ran his hands up and down her arms. "Don't be nervous."

She smiled more fully now. "Thank you." She kissed him before saying, 'Okay. Let's go."

He reached to take her hand, to give her support and comfort. They walked into the lab together. He realized this was a huge thing for him. Sara would be thinking that this was a normal every day occurrence for them to go to work together, but it wasn't. Tonight was the first night.

Greg was the first to spot them when they entered the lab. "Sara!" he exclaimed. "Welcome back," he said, giving her a quick hug. "I'm glad you're back…I'm tired of looking at Nick and Warrick's ugly faces all the time."

"Hey yourself. And, Greg, you probably shouldn't let Warrick and Nick hear you saying that," she warned, laughing. She knew she could always count on him to make her smile.

They continued to talk as they made their way to the break room. Grissom separated to go to his office to grab some papers. When he entered the break room a few minutes later, everyone was still busy greeting and welcoming back Sara.

When they had all sat down, Grissom began talking. "Okay, we have two DB's tonight. Warrick and Catherine, I want you to take a robbery gone bad out in Henderson. And Nick why don't you take Greg with you while you investigate the murder on the North Strip…"

* * *

A/N4: So, what did you think? Last chapter not as many people reviewed, and I was wondering if there was a particular reason? Is there something that you do not like with the story? Is it because everyone's getting frustrated that Sara's memory hasn't returned? Is it because you want to see some action between the two geeks? If it's for the last two reasons, then I will say that I promise you both things will be happening in the NEAR future of the story. Nonetheless, any and all feedback is very appreciated so please don't hesitate to let me know what you think. Thanks! And, btw, I'm going to start working on the beginning of the next chapter tonight so I hope that it won't take me forever to send out sneak peeks!


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: I want to say thanks to the lovely **graciebutterfliedgsr** for the beta! And I want to say a huge thank you to everyone for all the reviews/comments/encouragement for this story. It means a lot and at times when I just want to yell and give up on the chapter...they're what keep me going.

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of CSI or the Yeats poetry that is contained in this chapter.

* * *

_Tuesday evening at the lab…_

Everyone was already in the break room, sitting and talking, when Grissom walked in to hand out the evening's assignments.

"What do you have for us tonight, boss?" Greg questioned when he noticed Grissom entering.

Instead of sitting down, he decided to remain standing.

"Catherine, I want you and Warrick to handle a hit and run outside of the Tropicana Resort and Casino. Greg and Nick, you two are with me tonight. We have a triple homicide."

"What, uh, would you like me to do tonight exactly?" Sara inquired.

Last night at work, he had stayed behind at the lab and had her help him with a cold case file because he had felt that the others could easily handle the two DB's. However, tonight he knew he couldn't afford to stay at the lab, and he wasn't too keen on having her out in the field just yet. He wanted to make sure that she took things slow. She was still looking at him expectantly when he finally spoke. "I would like you to stay here. At the lab. There's going to be a lot of evidence that will need to be processed from the scenes you can help out with."

He saw the quick flash of surprise on her face before it disappeared. "Okay. Sure. If that's what you want," she spoke quietly.

He felt like he should say something more; offer more of an explanation. He didn't want to upset her; he just wanted to protect her. "You're still trying to get used to being back…I just don't want you to over do it."

It looked like she wanted to say something more but she kept quiet. He also noticed the brief exchange of glances between the others. Raised eyebrows and lips. He wasn't sure what they were thinking, but he knew that his main goal –his main priority- was to keep Sara well.

"Don't worry, Sara. We'll soon be bringing you more evidence to go through than you know how to handle… you won't even have a chance to think that you're bored," Greg said in an attempt to lighten the mood as he rose from his chair to stand.

Sara gave him a smile. "Thanks, Greg. I'll look forward to that."

"No problem," he said before following the others out of the break room and leaving Grissom alone with Sara.

"Are you okay with staying here? I would stay if I could but…" he trailed off.

"Yeah. It's fine. Like Greg said, I'm sure I'll stay busy."

He wasn't quite certain if he believed her or not, but now was not the time to get into a more in-depth discussion. "I'll see you later," he said, coming closer and placing a small kiss on her cheek.

"Okay."

As he walked out of the break room, he tried not to feel too guilty. He was just trying to look out for her.

_xxx_

_Wednesday afternoon…_

"Gil?"

"Yeah, honey?" he returned. They had already spent the first few hours of the day doing laundry, and they were putting everything away now.

"Are you planning on keeping me in the lab tonight at work?" she asked while hanging up a couple of his shirts in the closet.

"Um?" He wasn't sure how to answer that since he hadn't made up his mind yet.

"You need to let me back out in the field and allow me to do my job, Gil." She hesitated a moment before continuing, "Unless…"

"Unless what, Sara?" he questioned concerned, unsure what she was thinking.

"Unless you don't think I can do my job properly anymore?"

"No," he said it quickly and more sharply than he had intended. "No, that's not it," he spoke softer. "I promise."

"Okay… then what is it exactly?"

Grissom sighed audibly. He knew that he couldn't keep her in a protective glass bubble, even if he wanted to. It wasn't fair to her, first of all –she was good at her job. And, most importantly, he knew that Sara wouldn't let him. She would be the first to tell him that she wasn't fragile.

She was also still waiting for him to respond.

"It's me," he admitted, taking her hand and sitting down with her on the bed in their bedroom. "I want to take care of you, honey. I didn't want you to over exert yourself, and I just thought that it would be better for you to start out slowly…and…" He took a breath before resuming. "I was scared. Scared because of what happened to you."

She was facing him now, and she reached over and cupped his face gently with one of her hands. "Gil," she spoke his name softly and waited until his blue eyes met hers before she spoke again. "I'm nervous, too. But you know what?" This time she didn't wait for a response or for him to nod his head. "I know I have you there. My big, strong protector," she said. She was smiling when she gave him a soft kiss. Drawing back, she explained quietly, "I need to get back out there, Gil. Because I _am _nervous. And scared. I need to prove to myself that I can do it."

Leaning forward, he rested his forehead on hers for a moment. "That whole 'fall off the horse and get back on it' kind of thing, huh?" he questioned.

She let out a small chuckle at his choice of analogies. "Well, I haven't ridden a horse before…but yeah that whole horse and saddle thing," she agreed.

"Okay. Tonight I'll put you back out in the field. Just promise me you'll let me know if you need to take a break or something?"

"Geez." She rolled her eyes, playfully. "Here I thought I would just suffer through the night and not say anything at all…"

"Sara? Please?" he requested.

"Okay, okay. I will. Promise." She sighed dramatically as she rose back from the bed. "Now, are you going to help me finish putting up the laundry or am I am going to have to do it all by myself?"

_xxx_

_At the Crime Lab…_

"Tonight's going to be a busy night. Warrick, you and Greg have a burglary break-in gone badly in Boulder City. Catherine and Nick, you two have a double murder case in Henderson. Sara, you'll be with me –a homicide in the suburbs," Grissom said, handing out the necessary information to everyone.

_xxx_

_A Few Hours Later…_

He had already finished processing the master bedroom and bath where most of the crime had taken place when he rose to go find Sara.

Several times during the course of his work he had to make himself mentally refocus on his task at hand. In the corner of his mind, he was thinking of her. _Was she okay? Was she safe?_ He made himself stay until he finished because he had wanted to check on her. And he would have but then she had completely surprised him earlier by asking him if he thought she couldn't do her job.

He reminded himself that she didn't need him looking over her shoulder. She needed to feel like she could do her job. Plus, there were also three other cops on the premise, one of which he had told specifically to keep a discreet eye on her at all times.

Stretching and working the kinks out of his shoulders, he gathered all of his collected evidence to carry out to his vehicle. When he returned inside the house, he headed in search for Sara. He found her in the kitchen, photographing blood spatters.

She looked up when she heard his footsteps approaching. "Hey."

"How's everything going?" he asked, squatting down next to her.

"Good. I'm almost finished actually. Just need to do a few more things," she replied. "What about you?"

"Done. Would you care for some help?"

She smiled. "That sounds nice. Thanks."

_xxx_

_Thursday. Early Morning…_

"Bye! See you guys tomorrow," Greg yelled out as he saw Grissom and Sara leaving. They turned and acknowledged his goodbye with a slight wave before they continued out the exit door.

Walking to the passenger side of his Denali, Grissom opened the door for Sara and waited until she got into the car and buckled her seat belt to shut the door.

Seconds later, he was in the vehicle and pulling out of the lab's parking lot. Turning his head, he asked, "So, how was it being back in the field?"

She shifted in her seat, her body facing him, as she answered, "It felt good to be back completely. I had been so nervous about everything and worried that I might have some trouble remembering certain things. But it was there. All the knowledge and know-how was there. I knew exactly what to do, things just fell into place."

"See, you shouldn't have been worried. I knew you would do well," he commented.

A few minutes passed in relative silence before she spoke again. "I think that it's a good thing… I mean that I didn't have problems remembering how to do things. Maybe now… some memories might start to come back? You know, now that I'm getting back into a more normal routine and everything…" her voice trailed off as she looked out the window of the passenger seat.

"Yeah, that's possible…"

_xxx_

_Early Afternoon…_

The sunlight was pouring in and was bright enough to rouse him from his sleep. Beside him, Sara was still resting peacefully.

She had fallen asleep during the car ride home. The adrenaline she had been feeling had worn off, and exhaustion had taken its place. He had carried her to bed, removing both her shoes and jacket, before drawing the covers around her.

He stared at her, watching her chest rise and fall as she breathed in and out steadily. Her hair was splayed against the pillow, her lips curved in a cute half smile. A ray of light hit the ring on her left hand, and it sparkled brightly.

Sara was right. Maybe being back in the lab would help facilitate her memories in returning. He knew he needed to tell her the truth. _Before _her memory returned on its own. It was only a matter of time before she began remembering; he refused to believe otherwise.

As Grissom was contemplating coming clean to Sara, she slowly awakened to find him gazing at her intently.

"Hey," she murmured sleepily.

He smiled at her. "Hey, honey."

"What were you thinking about just now?" she questioned with a yawn.

In his mind, one part of him screamed, "Tell her now!" while the other part demanded, "No, not yet!" In the end, the latter won out. Softly, he recited Yeats, "Had I the Heavens' embroidered cloths, enwrought with golden and silver light, the blue and the dim and the dark cloths of night and light and the half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet…"

_xxx_

_Night…_

They had chosen to eat out before heading into work for the night, so they ended up arriving at the Crime Lab somewhat early.

After greeting Judy, they both headed to his office.

"Thanks for a lovely dinner," Sara said, half sitting/half leaning against his desk while Grissom sat in his chair.

"Anytime," he replied.

Ten minutes later, Sara was in his lap when they heard a knock at his door. She quickly jumped up and smoothed down her clothes while he straightened in his chair. He called out, "Come in?"

It was Greg. "Hey, Judy said that you two were already here…"

Another ten minutes later, everyone was in the break room for the evening. Grissom began handing out the assignments for the evening. "Sara, you're with me…"

_xxx_

_Friday afternoon…_

After she finished taking a shower and getting dressed for the day, Sara went in search for Gil and found him in his office. His attention was solely focused on the paperwork in front of him, so she snuck up behind him and placed both of her hands on his shoulders, massaging gently and causing him to moan in pleasure.

He crooked his neck to look up at her as he said, "That feels nice," with a smile. "Thanks."

She leaned down and kissed his cheek. "You're welcome." She grinned quickly before she continued, "I was actually hoping for a back rub later on…"

He shifted his chair until he faced her fully and gently pulled her down to sit in his lap. She looped an arm loosely around his neck. "Ah. So quid pro quo then?" he teasingly asked.

"Of course. What else is there?" she returned with a grin and kissed him again.

"Mmm…you taste good," he murmured. "Like chocolate?"

She flushed slightly. "Hey, I had a craving…"

"Uh huh." He laughed. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Yeah, yeah anyway. I was wondering if you thought you might possibly be able to manage to pull yourself away from whatever paperwork you were working on? I know it's such a hardship for you to do so since I know how much you love it," she joked.

"Very funny. It's nothing too important actually. What do you want to do?"

"I was thinking… you, me, the living room sofa. Eating popcorn and watching an old movie while Bruno lies on the floor beside us. What do you say?"

"I say it sounds like paradise to me. Lead the way."

Nearly two hours later, the movie had come to an end and the credits were rolling. Sara had switched positions so that she was lying on her back now.

Grissom gazed down at her face, searching her eyes. _Maybe I should tell her now? Get it over with? I don't want to…but I need to. Okay. Okay. I will…deep breath in…_ "Sara," he opened his mouth to begin speaking.

"Hey," she interrupted. "Why such a serious face?" she asked before she leaned up to kiss him. In between kisses, she said, "Did you not like the movie?"

His brain was cloudy. His taste full of her. "No. That's not it… but yeah nevermind..." _Later. I'll tell her later._

Moments passed, and they were lying side-by-side. Grissom's arm was slung around Sara's waist, and she held his hand in hers. "I wished we could stay like this forever. You and me. Just like this… no one to bother us. We would be in our own little world," Sara spoke softly.

"It would be nice," he agreed. "Except for those pesky little details about having to pay such things as bills and taxes, and we do have to eat occasionally."

Sara laughed aloud. "You're so literal," she teased.

"Uh-huh. Speaking of eating, what do you want for dinner tonight? We have to be heading into work soon."

"What about making a pizza with some veggies and cheese on it?" she suggested.

"Sounds good to me," he said as they both rose from the couch.

Walking toward the kitchen, Sara turned her head back grinning and said, "If you ask me real nicely, then I might even help you chop some of the veggies…"

_xxx_

_Evening…_

He was in his office again, much like the previous night minus the notable exception that this time he was alone. When he and Sara had come in together earlier, Catherine had caught up, and she and Sara had begun talking. "Girl talk," Catherine had teased before dragging Sara away. He then excused himself to the quiet solitude of his office.

Sitting in his desk chair, he looked over the night's cases. Two double homicides and a possible suicide case. Three separate teams were needed.

The past couple of days working with Sara had been wonderful. It was good to have her back, though he still worried about her. It was an interesting feeling to be this concerned about another person. He had always cared about all of his team members. This, however, went way beyond that.

Being with Sara twenty-four/seven was truly the sweetest form of torture. It was Hell. It was Heaven. Being so close to her; being able to touch her at work. It was sweet torture.

He realized that he needed a break. A break from pretending –although if he was honest with himself then he would admit that at times he had completely forgotten he was supposed to be pretending. It felt so real; it felt _so_ right. Still, he needed a small reprieve. He needed to try to get his head refocused and to remember that this was just short-term, until he explained things to her.

Tonight he would pair her with someone else, and he hoped she would understand.

Leaning back in his chair, he contemplated whom he would pair her with. When he figured it out, he smiled. He knew Nick hadn't entirely forgiven himself for what had happened to Sara, so in this small way he could reassure Nick that he didn't blame him despite his earliest remarks. And he knew that Nick would look out for Sara at the crime scene, even more so than usual now. Satisfied with his decision, he rose and headed to the break room to hand out the cases.

Before Sara headed out to the crime scene, he pulled her aside. "Is this okay?" he asked, referring to his pairing her with Nick.

"Yeah, it's okay. I think I kind of know why you did it anyway," Sara said. "I'll be fine. Nick will look after me, so don't worry."

He was relieved. "Okay, good."

Nick came up and joined them in the hallway. "Hey, Sara. Can I have a few minutes alone with the boss?" he asked. He waited until she had left to grab Grissom's hand and clasp it firmly. He knew what it meant for Grissom to pair Sara with him, and he felt that a heavy weight had been lifted from his heart and maybe –just maybe –he could start to forgive himself. "Thank you, Grissom. Thank you."

Grissom acknowledged the unspoken words coming from Nick with a slight nod of his head. "Take care of her, okay?"

"Yeah, I will. I will," Nick promised then hurried to catch up with Sara.

He stayed rooted to his spot until he saw the two of them disappear down the corner then he left to go find Catherine.

_xxx_

_Saturday. Early Morning…_

He and Catherine had finished all the paperwork for their case, and Catherine had already headed home for the morning. Grissom sat in his office, waiting for Sara and trying a bit unsuccessfully to catch up on some work.

Deciding to see if Sara was nearly finished, he pushed back his chair and headed out of his office to find her.

When Sara spotted him, his back was to her. She smiled and walked toward him. Drawing closer to him, she greeted him hello.

He turned immediately and met her smiling face with his matching one. "Hey," he said softly. "I missed you." It was true, he thought. He had missed her. "Are you about ready to leave?"

"Yes. We're all done. I was about to come find you. Let's go home," she said, taking his hand in hers.

_xxx_

_Sunday mid-morning…_

Grissom had woken before Sara so he decided to serve her breakfast in bed. Twenty minutes later, he finished placing two plates of cheese omelets and hash browns on a tray along with two glasses of orange juice and utensils and headed toward the bedroom.

The smell of food must have woken Sara because when he walked in she was sitting up in bed and stretching. "Good morning."

"Good morning," he greeted her. "I wanted to surprise you with breakfast."

She scooted over slightly so he could sit beside her with the tray. "Thank you." Taking a bite from her omelet, she swallowed before saying, "This is really good."

"You're welcome."

After finishing their breakfast, they headed to the kitchen to put up their dishes. "Is there anything you need or want to do today?" Grissom asked.

Sara thought for a moment before answering. "What do you think about just having a nice, lazy day? Wearing our pajamas, playing some games…"

He quirked one eyebrow. "Games?"

"Yes, games. Card games, scrabble?" she suggested. "What do you think?"

"I think," he paused and kissed her, "that you should prepare," another kiss…

"Prepare for what exactly?" she asked, her eyes sparkling and her arms wrapped around his neck.

"To lose," he stated with a grin.

"Lose?" she scoffed. "You honestly think you can beat me? Me?" she repeated incredulous. "Oh, you are so on! I am _the_ queen of cards."

"Famous last words, Sara," he said.

"Uh-huh. We'll just see who's crying uncle in the end," she declared happily as she danced away laughing.

"I'll make an area in the living room for us," he called out after her. He figured it would probably not be wise to play games with Sara in bed –because playing innocent games could lead to playing some not so innocent ones…

Nearly ten minutes later, Grissom had a comforter (his original one that Catherine had put up in the hallway closet) and throw pillows spread out on the floor. Sara turned the c.d. player on low and a man began singing about a dog in the garden row being covered in mud.

Sara had already found and placed the cards and the scrabble board game on the carpet beside the comforter. She plopped down and began shuffling the cards. Bruno was lying beside her with his bone, happily chewing away. "You ready to play?" she asked. "Poker, speed, war, Egyptian ratscrew…what's your pleasure?"

_Egyptian ratscrew? I'm not even going to ask._ "Poker," he replied, popping his knuckles and rolling his neck, getting comfortable and getting ready to win.

Half an hour later, Sara said, "Okay. Show me what you got."

He felt smug. He knew he had a good hand. Turning them over, he said, "Read them and weep."

"Oh, oh. Very nice," Sara conceded of his straight flush.

"Thanks," he said, prepared to win the hand.

"But…"

"But?"

"But not good enough," she cried out, turning over her cards to reveal a royal flush. She got up on her feet and did a little victory dance.

Grissom sat torn between amusement and amazement while watching her. Out of all the hands they had played so far, she had beaten him four out of fives times. _So much for winning…_

An hour and a half later after losing to Sara in both war, speed, and rummy, he wasn't quite sure what to think of this competitive side of Sara that was coming out. He found it fascinating, all the facets of her personality he was learning. _Maybe I should tell her the truth now…_ "Sara," he began.

She interrupted, sitting back down on the comforter (after yet again another victory dance). "Are you ready to admit defeat and to say that I _am_ the card champion of world?" Then amended a second later, "Well, of Las Vegas, at least?" she asked, laughing and completely unaware of what had been going through his mind seconds earlier.

"Admit defeat?" he questioned. "Never," he declared dramatically. "I'm just planning my comeback."

"Uh-huh. I'll believe it when I see it." She grinned.

He growled. "Get out the scrabble board, and we'll see who is crying defeat later…"

_xxx_

_Monday evening…_

"Nick, I want you and Sara to take a case on the North Strip. Warrick and Catherine, you two are headed out to Henderson, and Greg you're with me for the night," Grissom stated as he handed out the assignments for the evening.

_xxx_

Five hours into his shift, Grissom realized that it was going to be a long night and he would be lucky to be home by noon. He finished his current task before telling Greg that he was going to step outside for a brief moment.

Finding a bit of privacy, he quickly dialed Sara's cell.

"Hey," she answered her phone in greeting.

"Hey, honey. How's everything going?" he questioned.

"Good. Nick and I are at the lab, working on finishing up the case."

"It looks like it's going to be a long night for Greg and I, so I wanted to call you and say that I think you should have Nick take you home after you two finish, okay? I don't want you to have to wait for me because like I said it will more than likely be a long shift, and I rather you get some sleep…"

_xxx_

_At the Crime Lab…_

He and Greg had finished wrapping up their case and all he had left to do was a bit of paperwork. Sitting down in his desk chair, he yawned and picked up a pen to start filling out the necessary forms.

That was how Brass found him ten minutes later. Briefly, he knocked on the opened door and waited until Grissom looked up and motioned him in to step forward and into the room. "You're still here," Brass said, stating the obvious.

"Yes, but not for much longer. I was just about to file these papers," Grissom responded.

"I saw Sara leaving earlier with Nick."

Grissom nodded his head. "I didn't want her to have to stay and wait on me since I wasn't sure how long I would be."

"I know you're tired and just want to head home but think you can spare a few minutes to talk?" Brass asked.

"Yeah, uh, sure. What's on your mind?"

He took a seat. "I wanted to talk about Sara."

Grissom sat back in his chair, unsure of where his friend wanted to go with the conversation. "Yes?"

"She's something special," Brass began.

"Yes. Yes she is," he agreed.

"She's also the best thing that has ever happened to you. I don't think I have ever seen you happier. Sara's good for you."

"The question is am I good for her?" Grissom thought to himself.

Brass continued as if he knew what his friend was thinking, "You _are_ good for her as well. I want things to work out between the two of you."

Grissom acknowledged his words.

"But I must warn you, don't screw this up. If you hurt her…"

_xxx_

On the drive home, Grissom's thoughts rested on Sara. He realized that he needed to tell her the truth and soon. He had been trying to but then she would interrupt him or the timing didn't feel right. His mind played devil's advocate, asking would the time ever truly feel right to tell her the truth?

Walking into the house, he greeted Bruno before heading toward the master bedroom. He found Sara already fast asleep. She was curled into his side of the bed, her face pressed into his pillow.

Quietly, he changed clothes and slid in next to her. Curling up behind her, he hugged her tightly to his chest. Softly, she murmured something indecipherable and snuggled back against him contently.

Though his eyes were closed, his mind refused to quiet. Over and over, in his head, he kept thinking about what Sara's reaction would be when she realized the truth. He knew he should tell her the truth now before things became even more complicated.

_Will she understand?_ He would make her understand because he couldn't lose her.

Still was it so bad to want a little bit more time with her? He liked just being with her and having meals together. He liked not being alone anymore. It was a new experience for him to share his life with someone, and he didn't want it to end. He was worried –really worried about what would happen when the truth came out.

He would tell her the truth, but first he just wanted a little more time with her like this. Like they _were_ married. _Was it really so wrong?_

* * *

A/N2: So there you have Ch. 25 (insert: Holy Hell! I have a Ch. 25??)! I hope you enjoyed it. Comments are _so _appreciated.

A/N3: Just a quick sidebar to say that I have a busy few days ahead of me (My friends and I decided to start a book club and our first meeting is Tuesday. I haven't read the book b/c I was concentrating on _Memories_ and the meeting's at my house and I said I would provide refreshments so I need to figure out a menu as well…eek), so sneak peeks may take a few days to be sent...


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: I'm back! Anyway, I have to start off my incredibly long A/Ns with a HUGE, HUGE thank you to everyone. I found out that I was nominated for a few stories in the 2008 FanFic Awards on LJ. And honestly…wow. Just wow. I was completely, completely surprised and thrilled and ecstatic (and I could go on and on naming adjectives to describe my mood when I found out but I'll shut up now). So again thank you…it really, really means a lot! Being nominated is such a huge honor.

A/N2: Two quick notes about last chapter: Egyptian Rat Screw is a real game and was suggested to me by Clayfish32 (if you haven't read any of her stories, then you should!), and it was Grace who suggested Grissom pair Sara with Nick as a sign of forgiveness (and I loved the idea). Speaking of Grace, thanks to her for the beta of this chapter. I changed it a bit more so any remaining mistakes I claim. Plus, a few thanks to various people who I asked their opinion at one time or another on the "going ons" of this chapter: Becky, Brooke, Jen, and Kristen… thanks for the opinions/listening to me worry!

**Warning**: Um, yeah, maybe some adult like activities happening…

Disclaimer: Own CSI? Only in my dreams…

* * *

Sara woke to find something cold and wet pressing against her hand. She opened her eyes slowly and found Bruno by her bedside. Since she wasn't sure what time Gil had arrived home last night, she wanted to let him sleep in as late as possible. Smiling at the dog, she got out of bed and quietly made her way to the kitchen to feed him.

After he finished eating, Bruno joined her in the living room where she had turned on the television and was half-listening to the news.

When the phone rang, she answered it quickly. It was Catherine calling to say hello and invite her to a late lunch that afternoon. Apparently, Lindsey was driving her crazy, and she _really_ needed to get out of her house. Otherwise, Catherine claimed, she wouldn't be responsible for what happened to her daughter.

After hanging up the phone, she checked to see if Gil was still asleep and found that he was. So, after a few minutes, she decided to attempt a major personal feat –cooking breakfast. Very scary, she thought to herself. Gil had surprised her with breakfast in bed several times; therefore, she wanted to do the same for him. Plus, it couldn't be that difficult. On the other hand, it was also true that all of her memories involving cooking were of meals that hadn't turned out well. Still, she refused to let fear of failure deter her from cooking her husband breakfast. With high hopes, she set off toward the kitchen with Bruno trailing after her.

Mentally, she debated what to make for breakfast. _Eggs? _Eggs weren't that hard to cook._ Maybe eggs and some French toast?_ It sounded good to her.

After taking a carton of eggs and the butter from the refrigerator and some bread from the pantry, she placed them all on the counter and then located the spices and cookware that she needed to make breakfast.

Thirty minutes, half a dozen eggs, and at least that many bread slices later (along with several choice words), she blew out a frustrated breath.

This was so _not_ working.

The first batch of scrambled eggs had turned out well but by the time she had produced decent looking French toast the eggs had turned cold. No problem, she thought, as she heated them up in the microwave. The downside, however, was that the now hot again eggs no longer tasted so great. That meant she had to make more eggs and more French toast, which both turned out to look and smell great. She was extremely happy with her accomplishment. That was until Bruno managed to trip her, and all her hard work dropped to the floor to be wolfed down by the canine in less than two minutes flat.

Maybe she wasn't meant to cook. Or maybe it was that the cooking gods just didn't like her.

She was personally leaning toward the second one.

Nonetheless, she wasn't one to quit. So she decided to give cooking breakfast one more shot then she really would have to give up because there would be no more eggs or bread left.

A few moments later, she swore out loud when she saw that she had burnt the toast. Again. She remembered that she had seen some powdered sugar in the pantry, which she hoped would mask any burnt tasting spots.

Another ten minutes later, she carried two plates of highly powered, syrup-laden slices of French toast along with eggs that were ever so slightly runny toward the master bedroom to wake up her husband.

The smell of food must have roused him from his sleep because by the time she entered the room his eyes were open.

"Good morning." She graced him with a smile.

Grissom returned the greeting, sitting up in bed and getting comfortable. "You made breakfast?" he asked, surprised. With the exception of his mom and his grandmother, he never had another female in his life cook for him. "Thank you," he said and truly meant it.

She set the tray down next to him and then crossed to the other side of the bed, sitting cross-legged and facing him. "You might want to try the food first before you start in with the gratitude," she admitted.

"I'm sure it will be fine. Looks good," he commented as he scooped up a forkful of eggs.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before they caught each other's gaze and began to smile and then to laugh.

"I warned you, didn't I?" Sara giggled. "It's not good, is it?"

Though he was laughing along with her, he didn't want to hurt her feelings. "The toast is definitely, uh, crunchy…"

"Sorry! I'm sorry. I tried, really I did. And, by the way, we're out of eggs and bread…and we should probably pick up some more powdered sugar, too," she managed to say before breaking off into laughter again.

"Oh, really? Though technically I shouldn't be too surprised about the powdered sugar since you drowned the French toast in it," he teased.

"Well, you see, I sort of did that on purpose," she confessed.

"And that reason would be…?" He queried with a raised eyebrow.

"To cover the fact that I might have burnt the toast," she stated the fact as if it should have been obvious to him. "Then again, that apparently didn't work out so well for me either."

"It's the thought and effort that counts," he replied as he moved the tray of mostly uneaten food to the bedside nightstand and turned back to see her grinning at him. "What now?"

"Nothing… you just have some powdered sugar on your cheek."

"Oh." He started to lift his hand to his face but she stopped him.

"No, let me," she spoke softly, looking into his eyes while raising her hand to gently brush the powder from his cheek.

In his mind, he flashed back to nearly four years ago when they were at a crime scene and she wiped chalk from his cheek. He had been so surprised by her touch, the intimacy of it. "Thanks," he murmured when she removed her hand.

"You're welcome."

She was staring at him intensely, and he couldn't keep himself from leaning in and kissing her, tasting the sweetness from her lips.

The shrill sound of the phone ringing a few minutes later interrupted their passionate embrace.

"Don't answer it," Sara pleaded between kisses.

At first, he ignored the phone completely until it rang again. "Sorry. Sorry, let me get it," he said, disentangling himself from her. Picking up his cell phone from the nightstand, he answered the call as he moved out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

When he came back into the room again, his mind had cleared. He found Sara still lying on the bed.

She smiled as she asked, "Where were we?"

"Um, actually…about that… um, maybe now's not the, uh, time," he stumbled over the words.

She sat up on the bed. "Oh. Okay," she drew out the syllables in the last word. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back away from her face as she slid off the bed. Picking up the breakfast tray, Sara walked out of the room.

Grissom followed her into the kitchen where she was already placing the dirty dishes into the sink. "You're okay? We're okay, right?" he asked with a hint of hesitation in his voice.

She turned to face him. "Yeah, we're fine. Why wouldn't we be?" she said, waving off his concern. "So, uh, anyway who called?"

"It was the Crime Lab. They had a couple of questions they needed some help with."

"Oh. Well, anyway, I was going to let you know that Catherine called this morning and invited me out to have a late lunch with her. I told her that I would get back to her with an answer."

"That sounds like fun. You should go. I have a few things I need to do around the house before we go to work," he added.

"Okay, good. I'll call her and then take a shower," she replied before walking away.

_xxx_

In the shower, she let the hot water wash down over her. Gil had asked if they were okay, and she had responded with an automatic "yes."

Still, she couldn't keep from asking herself if that was really true. Were they okay?

She honestly didn't know what to think. They were in bed and everything was great. Then the phone rang and he came back and 'changed' his mind. It had been three weeks since she came home from the hospital and nothing had happened between them except for kisses and a few serious make out sessions.

He said he was worried about her and that he didn't want to rush her.

However, the thing she couldn't help but think was what if that wasn't the real reason he was holding himself back? What if before her accident they were having marital problems?

What if they were on the verge of separating and then she got hurt? Gil wouldn't have wanted to upset her because of the amnesia. Plus, the doctor was pretty adamant that she didn't need any additional stress while she was recovering.

Could that be what was going on? That would explain the whole no sex thing. Maybe that's why he was holding himself back. Not because he was worried about her health but instead because they were splitting.

Because the thought of them splitting and having problems made her stomach roll and left her weak in the knees, she pushed the negativeness away as she got of the shower to dress for her lunch date with Catherine.

_xxx_

A couple hours later, Sara was already seated at a booth when Catherine rushed in.

"Hey! Sorry I'm a little late. Lindsey and I got into yet another fight right before I left. I swear that girl is trying to drive me insane or something!"

Sara smiled sympathetically. "You know what? I'm pretty sure I heard a rumor about how kids, especially daughters, have been trying extra hard lately to drive their mothers crazy," she joked, in an effort to make her friend laugh.

"Well, Lindsey is definitely trying me!" Catherine exclaimed. "I'm going to have to go to my hairdresser earlier than normal because she's probably given me at least twenty new gray hairs since last week!"

Sara was still chuckling over Catherine's comment when their waitress arrived at their table. She wrote down their drink and food orders and left.

They were halfway through their entrées when Catherine stopped herself. "I just realized that I've been monopolizing most of this conversation. You should have shut me up at least half an hour ago, Sara!"

"It's fine," Sara assured her friend and then repeated it after she saw that Catherine didn't quite believe her. "Honestly, it's fine. You needed someone to vent to and I'm a pretty good listener." Plus, listening to Catherine talk about Lindsey helped (sort of) to distract her from thinking about the uncertainties of her marriage to Gil.

It wasn't until they were eating dessert when Catherine noticed that Sara seemed a bit distracted. "Is everything okay?" she questioned.

Since dessert had arrived, she had been trying to decide whether or not to say anything to Catherine. She was a private person, and it was –what she felt –a personal question. But she also felt that she needed to talk to someone about her worries. "Actually, I was wondering something," she began.

"Okay?"

"I feel slightly, uh, weird bringing this up but, I mean, we're friends. Right?"

"Yes, we are," Catherine answered slowly, unsure what direction Sara was going to go with her question.

"I'm just going to say it… or, well, ask it. Were Gil and I having problems?" At Catherine's blank look, she clarified, "Before the accident, before the amnesia… were we having some marriage difficulties?" Sara held her breath, scared about what her friend might reveal.

Catherine was definitely not expecting that question from Sara. "No, no," she quickly said. She winced slightly but then figured that she wasn't really lying. Or, technically, she wasn't lying since Grissom and Sara weren't actually married so therefore they couldn't have had marriage problems. "Sara, you should know how much Grissom cares about you. He would do anything for you." She thought to herself, "And, boy, was that last statement true!"

"Yeah… I know. Thanks for reminding me of that." Sara smiled as she continued, "It was just me being silly, I guess."

As they finished up their meal and paid, Catherine hoped that she had done the right thing by keeping her mouth shut.

_xxx_

Sometime between having lunch with Catherine, working last night, and that afternoon, Sara came to a decision.

She was going to seduce her husband. And he was going to enjoy it.

She loved that he was thoughtful, considerate, and so sweet. But enough was enough!

Gil had just finished leaving a few minutes ago. The Crime Lab had called him again, but this time they needed him to actually go in. He had apologized for having to leave and even asked if she wanted to come with him. It would only take a few hours, he promised.

She had said no because she was already formulating a seduction strategy for the night.

They both had the evening off, which was highly convenient since she had plans for the two of them that did not involve bugs or dead bodies.

Making a mental to-do list of what she needed to get, she grabbed her keys and headed out the front door of her house.

Though she wasn't a huge fan of the mall, it was a one-stop shopping place so that was where she went. It was her viewpoint that there was a specific arsenal necessary for a successful seduction. Smiling to herself, she inwardly declared that she was definitely not planning to fail her personal mission.

She bought some candles before heading to Victoria's Secrets. Nothing compared to sexy new lingerie, and she was pleased when she found the perfect matching set. As she headed to leave the mall, a dress in the window sidetracked her. Honestly, she wasn't really a dress wearing person, but the dress caught her eye. Impulsively, she decided to try it on and, when it fit perfectly, she knew she had to purchase it.

After making her last stop of the evening, she headed back home to change into her new clothes and to set everything up for the evening's festivities.

_xxx_

She was placing the food onto plates when Gil arrived home.

"Hey, honey," she greeted him, happy that he was back from the lab.

"What's all this?" he questioned, referring to the dimmed lights, the wine glasses and the bottle of wine.

"I thought that we could use a nice dinner at home." She smiled at him as she added, "Don't worry… I didn't try to cook this time. I picked up some Chinese takeout for tonight."

"I wasn't worried." When he saw that she didn't quite believe him, he continued in a teasing tone, "I didn't smell anything burning or see any smoke coming from the kitchen."

"Hey now! Is this the thanks that I'm going to get for going through all this trouble?" she asked, gesturing widely. "I'll have you know that it takes an incredible amount of skill _and _talent to transfer food from takeout boxes to plates." She crossed her arms against her chest, pretending to look miffed.

"I'm sorry," he murmured softly, stepping closer to her and producing what he had been hiding behind his back. "Does these help?"

"Oh, wow." Her breath caught and she melted at the sight of him, wearing a boyish grin and holding a ridiculously large bouquet of yellow tulips and irises. "They're gorgeous. Absolutely perfect! Thank you!" She took the bouquet from him and sighed happily before giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

"You're welcome," he called after her as she headed into the kitchen. He was extremely pleased she liked the flowers that he had bought on a whim before heading home for the evening.

She walked back seconds later with the flowers in a vase and set them in the center of the table.

He finally took note of what she was wearing. A dress. It really shouldn't have taken his breath away. The dress was simple, nothing super fancy or especially tight and clingy. It wasn't even very revealing. Still, his heart did a funny little flip in his chest as the sight of her. "You look nice," he commented. More than nice actually, she looked beautiful. Then again he was pretty sure that if she was wearing a paper sack he would still think that no woman had ever looked as lovely.

She looked down, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her dress, before looking back up and into his eyes. "Thanks," she said demurely. "After you left, I decided to get out of the house for a while so I went shopping."

He pulled out her seat for her before taking his own and pouring some wine into both of their glasses.

"Shall we toast?" he asked as she raised the glass to her lips.

"Yes. That sounds nice," she replied, nodding to him to do the honors himself.

He thought for a moment before he spoke. "To you," he began as he lifted his glass, "a woman who halves my sorrows and doubles my joys."

_xxx_

While he cleared the table, Sara moved into the living room, taking the candles she had lit with her and turning the stereo on low.

Surprising her moments later, Grissom wrapped his arms around her waist. Leaning down, he whispered into her ear, "May I have this dance?"

She turned with a smile on her face. "Of course."

He placed his hands on her waist, and she slid hers around his neck. Slowly, they began to sway in time with the music.

"This is nice," he murmured, pulling her closer to him.

"Mm-hmm. It is," she agreed, falling into the magic of the moment as she rested her head against his chest. She was beginning to feel heady, and she didn't think it had anything to do with the wine she had consumed earlier.

She lost count of how many songs had played through when she finally lifted her head to look him in the eyes. She spoke softly, "Will you be with me tonight?" It was as much as a request as it was a plea of longing and want.

He took a step from her, both physically and mentally, knowing inherently what she meant. "Sara," he started.

She interrupted. "I want you to make love to me. I want us to be together… really together again."

"And 'that' was the entire problem," he thought to himself. They hadn't ever been together before, not even on a date. "Sara, the accident… I don't want to hurt you, we should wait."

"Gil, you're wonderful and considerate with all of your concern, but I can't help but think…"

"You can't help but think what?"

"I can't stop myself from thinking that there's another reason. Maybe you don't feel the same way about me anymore, maybe you don't want me anymore and maybe… maybe," she broke off what she had been saying when she felt her voice begin to break. Turning her back to him, she struggled to regain her composure.

"Sara?" When she didn't answer him immediately, he closed the distance between them and gently turned her to face him. He saw the bright sheen of tears threatening to fall from her eyes, and he lost it. "The hell with it. The hell with everything," he thought dangerously, "Who cares about the rules? The consequences?" He was fairly certain he was going to be damned anyway, and he couldn't –he wouldn't –let her think, even if only for a moment, that he didn't want her. That he didn't care for her. That he didn't love her.

She was still staring at him, her eyes wide, waiting for him to say something.

"Please, don't ever think that I don't want you, that I don't need you," he demanded before he kissed her. He bent slightly and picked her up, carrying her into the bedroom and dropping her onto the bed.

She sat up, on her knees, and watched him as he lit the candles that she had placed around the room earlier. He dimmed the lights before pausing in the middle of the room to look at her.

"Come here," she commanded softly, beckoning him toward the bed, toward her.

He kicked off his shoes before taking a seat on the bed.

She leaned forward –almost shyly, cautiously –and touched her lips to his as his right hand moved to the front of her dress and undid the row of buttons. His other hand took the clip from her hair, letting her hair fall down in gentle waves. When he softly tugged her bottom lip between his teeth, she opened her mouth and allowed his tongue entry.

She moved her hands to his chest then lower, pulling his shirt free from his waistband. After unbuttoning it, she drew the shirt down his shoulders and off. Placing a hand over his chest, she felt his heart speed up as her other hand explored the contours of his body. She delighted in the feel of his muscles and in his body's reaction to her touch.

When her hand began to dip lower, he stopped her exploration as he broke their kiss. She whimpered at the loss of contact until he brought her hand to his lips. Turning it over, he placed a kiss first in the center her palm and then another on her wrist. "I want to see you," he murmured, his hands moving now to the hem of her dress. She lifted her hips slightly and he slowly drew the fabric up over her body, tossing it to the floor.

His eyes took in the full sight of her. She was naked to his gaze but for a few scraps of lace in the color of dark wine. "You are so beautiful, so lovely," he whispered reverently as he skimmed his lips along her jaw before taking her mouth in a lingering kiss. Tonight was special. He wanted to remember every little detail –from how utterly exquisite she looked in the flickering flames of candlelight to her every sigh and sound she made. He wanted everything imprinted in his mind forever. For better or for worse, right or wrong, she was his tonight and he was hers.

Gently, he laid her back on the bed. His fingers lazily explored the delicate lines and curves of her body, causing her to sigh and to moan in pleasure.

Tonight she had planned to seduce her husband, and she was finding that it was she who was being seduced by him. His kisses were so sweet, so tender. His breath was warm against her skin as he placed a feather-light kiss to the hollow of her throat.

When he pushed the straps of her bra down and removed it, she shivered involuntarily. His knuckles brushed the underside of each breast, and he drew languid circles around her nipples. She moaned in frustration, wanting and craving more contact. He bent his head and teased her nipple with his tongue as his free hand made a downward journey.

Her hands fisted in his hair before roaming up and down his back. "So, so good. More," she spoke in short, raspy sentences. She arched her back, trying to get closer to him. Trying to soothe the ache that was building inside of her.

Her response was driving him crazy, fueling his desire for her, but he didn't want to rush. He wanted to take his time to discover her, to learn her body fully. So he brought his hand back to her cheek to caress as he captured her lips once again in another mind-dissolving kiss.

Everything felt right. Everything was perfect. Nothing else mattered, she thought fleetingly. She wanted to stay in this moment, in his arms, forever. She took a hand and brushed his hair away from his face as she whispered, "Only you. There's only you."

"Only you," he agreed later when he finally slid inside her. Her eyes held his as they began to move together, slowly at first and then faster. He saw her eyes begin to blur, and he knew in that moment nothing had ever felt so right and nothing ever would feel so perfect again. She held his heart.

At last when they lay spent, she curled into him, her face pressed into his chest while a hand splayed across his back. He bent his head to kiss her temple and whispered a soft, "I love you," but she had already fallen asleep.

* * *

A/N3: I had a lot of internal debate about the chapter/the happenings. I'm sure some will be happy the smut (finally) happened, and others will be upset with me (thinking Grissom took advantage). Truth be told, I always knew I wanted this chapter to occur before Sara's memory came back, so I felt I should stay true to how I saw the events playing out. Hopefully, everyone will stay with the story and let me "fix" the fallout. And, as always, thanks so much for reading!


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: OMG, it's the one-year anniversary of _Memories_! Wow. Seriously, just wow. Never, in a million years, thought I would be writing this still… but I got to say it's been fun (stressful at times, but fun). I want to also say thanks to everyone who has been with me from the beginning (and are still with me –major props to you!) and all the newcomers to the story. Thank you for checking out the story, for the reviews, for adding _Memories_ to your favorites… all of which are extremely appreciated.

A/N2: Thank you to my lovely beta, Grace, for her continued help.

A/N3: I know some of you wished I posted on a more regular basis, and I want to say I'm not trying to be evil and leaving you hanging for long periods of time intentionally. Part of the reason (for the time elapsed) is being distracted by other story lines. It's impossible to work on _Memories_ when I have scenes and dialogue for another story running through my mind. Additionally, there's the issue of wanting to write the next chapter and having everything you write sound like crap, which makes you then want to yell, curse, and throw things. So when that happens (which happened a _lot_ for this chapter), I just have to step back from the story. I try to avoid using the word 'never' but I do want to say that I am committed to finishing this story as long as my muse cooperates with me. I have a lot planned for _Memories_, and I hope that everyone sticks around to read it…

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI; I just enjoy writing about the Bug Man and the Brown-eyed Beauty.

* * *

_Friday early afternoon…_

"Honey, I'm sorry."

"Gil, it's okay," she told him, coming out of their closet with fresh clothes to wear. She had finished showering moments earlier and was now wrapped only in a towel. "You didn't realize when you agreed to go into work early today that my doctor's appointment would be rescheduled at the last minute."

"Yeah, I know but I wanted to be there for you. I can always call the lab and tell them that I can't come in early."

She smiled, thankful for his concern. "Don't worry. I'll be all right, I promise. I can drive myself… no big deal."

"Okay, fine. Though I would feel better if you agreed to let Catherine go with you. For company sake, at least."

"Gil…"

He frowned ruefully. "It was just a suggestion."

She walked over to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. "Thank you," she spoke softly.

"Why are you thanking me?" His arms encircled her waist while his mind tried to disregard the fact that only a towel separated his hands from touching her bare skin.

"Because you care so much."

"Of course, I care about you," he murmured, kissing her softly.

Minutes passed before she finally broke their embrace. Stepping out of his arms, she explained, "I need to finish getting dressed, otherwise I'll be late for my appointment. Plus, you need to be leaving shortly yourself…"

_xxx_

After signing in at the front desk, Sara made her way to a vacant seat in the crowded waiting room, picking up a magazine at random to browse through and pass the time.

The two months old publication of _Health_ she had chosen boldly claimed: 'Drop 10 Lbs. in a Month' along with 'Eat Healthy for Less' and 'Natural Remedies'. She flipped through the pages, only half interested, skimming through the articles for a few minutes before she decided to give up the pretense of actually reading. Closing the magazine, she placed it on the empty chair next to her.

Her body might be present in the waiting room but her mind was elsewhere. She was nervous about the appointment today, nervous about what the doctor was going to say. She hadn't told Gil about her anxiety since he had already felt guilty about not being able to come with her.

She began playing with her nails, absentmindedly pushing her cuticles back, trying hard not to look as if she was fidgeting in her seat.

There was something on her mind, something she had not told Gil yet. She tried not to feel too guilty about her 'secret'.

Her memories were finally beginning to return, she thought.

It had happened yesterday, so unexpectedly.

She was in the kitchen, sneaking a few chocolate rice cakes to satisfy her sweet tooth craving, when he came in unexpectedly. She finished swallowing the last bite of her snack and tried to look innocent.

"You're ruining your appetite for dinner," he teasingly scolded her, advancing toward her slowly.

She backed up, bag in hand. "I just ate a couple." She grinned at him, hoping he would believe her.

"Uh-huh." He had looked skeptical, and now he was only inches away from her.

Her back was against the wall. He stepped closer to her, again. Their gazes locked. She dropped the bag of rice cakes but neither of them noticed the noise or the subsequent mess. His hands were now planted on the wall, on either side of her waist.

In her mind, she could hear herself say: "Pin me down." The place and the time were different though; they were at the Crime Lab. There was a bed sheet, hanging against the wall, with a blood stained pattern in the middle. She could see herself so clearly, standing an inch in front of the sheet, and she could see Gil, coming toward her and placing his hands on her wrist. She saw their mock struggle, the intensity and the fire between them, but could hear no further dialogue.

As quickly as the flash came it left, leaving her momentarily breathless. She realized Gil was still staring at her; she opened her mouth to speak when his lips brushed against hers, silencing the words she would have spoken. She hooked her arms around his neck while he lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist… and after that thinking became impossible.

Then, much later, she hesitated in telling him. She wasn't so sure she should yet. After all, it was just one memory. She didn't want to get his hopes up because what if her memory never fully returned? What if all she would ever have were a few flashbacks of those two missing years? She wanted to be surer of her memory returning before she mentioned anything to him. In a way, it was a good thing he hadn't been able to come to her appointment. He would have felt hurt that she hadn't confided in him.

Trying to shake the sadness she felt about not having her memory fully back, she was glad to hear her name being called from across the waiting room floor a few minutes later.

"Hi. Jen, right?" she questioned with a smile when she met the young nurse at the doorway.

"Yes. You remembered," Jen replied, pleased, leading Sara into a room to check her vitals.

"Yeah, I don't seem to have a problem with remembering the here and now. It's just that pesky past that's still so slippery," she responded.

Jen grinned widely. "At least you didn't lose your sense of humor." She spoke again, "Let's take your weight, if you'll just slip off your shoes, please."

Sara complied, removing her shoes before stepping onto the scale. "I'm a bit nervous about today's appointment so I'm using humor in an attempt to combat my nerves," she admitted.

"Don't be nervous," Jen told her then directed her to take a seat so she could check her blood pressure, placing the cuff on her right arm. "By the way, where's that good looking husband of yours?" She paused. "Oh, wait. Maybe I shouldn't mention him while I'm trying to get an accurate account of your stats, may skew them a little high."

Sara laughed. "He had to go into work early."

"Aw, too bad. I wouldn't have minded seeing those baby blues again." She sighed wistfully, grinning at Sara.

"Yeah, he has beautiful eyes, doesn't he?"

"Honey, I'm pretty sure there's nothing 'ugly' about that man," Jen declared, unwrapping the blood pressure cuff. "All right, I'm finished here. Just follow me, and I'll take you to your exam room."

Fifteen minutes after Jen had left her in exam room 3A, the door opened again after a brisk knock and Dr. Johns walked in, carrying what she assumed was her case file.

"Hello, Sara. It's good to see you again," he said, taking a seat on the rolling stool.

She returned his greeting with a smile. "Thanks."

He opened the manila-colored folder, perusing through the top couple of pages while she sat, waiting patiently for him to speak again. "I see that your blood pressure stats look good. Just slightly above normal but I'm pleased nonetheless."

"Okay. Good." She was relieved to learn that, at least.

Removing his stethoscope from around his neck, Dr. Johns said, "Here, let me listen to you for a few moments," as he placed the eartips in his ears. After he finished his task, he rolled his chair back to its original position. "Your heart and lungs both sound good. You're not having any problems with your ribs anymore or anything?"

She shook her head to indicate the negative. "No. No great pains."

He nodded his head. "Let's see," he paused, double-checking his notes, "last time you were here I told you that you could return to work after another week's rest. I assume you've returned, correct?"

"Yes. I returned Monday of last week," she told him.

Dr. Johns scribbled down the information in her folder while he asked, "Did everything go fine? Any problems to tell me about?"

"No, it went well. A little bit tiring at first, I'll admit, since I had spent about two and a half weeks doing much of nothing." She smiled as she added, "Of course, Gil made sure I didn't overtire myself or do too much whenever he could."

Dr. Johns smiled, pleased that he had been correct about her husband's attentiveness. "So again, like last time, the question of the hour… your memory. Anything new?"

"Yeah, the memory thing." She stopped, pushed a strand of hair back away from her face, something she did when she was nervous or needed a moment to gather her thoughts. "Actually… I think I have some good news." She explained to him what had happened in her kitchen yesterday (minus the after parts, obviously). "It came so quickly and then it was over."

"That's really great news, Sara," he stated.

"The thing is… that's the only memory that came back to me, so far. Nothing else. I'm afraid… what if nothing else comes back? Will my memory ever fully return?" she questioned, holding her breath, waiting for his answer.

"As you know, the brain is a complex organ and, despite all the scientific progress we've made, there is still so much to learn about how the brain works." Dr. Johns saw her frown and continued, "It is a good sign that you've had your first memory, Sara. But, as a doctor, I cannot sit here and tell you without a doubt that all of your memories will return."

She nodded that she understood. She had just wanted some hope.

"You may remember everything or you might never recover your full two years. A lot of times, amnesiacs never recall their accident. With retrograde amnesia, as I mentioned to you before, the things that happened closest to your accident are usually the ones that remain lost."

"Yeah." She sighed. "I know."

He looked at her, saw her face and wished that he could have offered her better news. She was a lovely young woman. Wishing to end on a slightly more upbeat note, he told her, "Stay positive. I have had patients where it happened that someone said a particular phrase or they came across something one day… and then 'boom!' everything suddenly came flooding back to them."

"Oh, if only that would happen…"

* * *

A/N4: Yes, short chapter, but it's actually not the full Ch. 27 (the rest is still with my beta) but I wanted to post today for various reasons (one of which is because it's the one year anniversary and I'm kind of sentimental like that). This means two things: 1) a sneak peek is actually available to be sent asap 2) another update shall be happening in the near future. Thanks for reading, and reviews... are like sunshine.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: A huge thank you to my fabulous beta, Grace. She's always wonderful. Secondly, this update was 'quick' mainly because it was already written when I posted Ch. 27 and it just needed some more editing.

Disclaimer: I hereby denounce ownership of CSI. Satisfied TPTB? Also, there's some dialogue from a certain memorable episode and, shockingly enough, I don't own those words.

* * *

_Friday Evening. At the Crime Lab…_

"Hi," Sara said, coming up behind him. He'd been walking down the hall, his mind focused on the papers he held in his hand.

Grissom turned immediately. "Hi." He smiled at the sight of her. "How did the doctor's appointment go?"

"It went well. My stats have improved. Dr. Johns said that I looked good and wanted me to schedule another appointment—"

"Hey, Sara," Nick said, breaking into their conversation as he came to greet them. "Hey, Boss. Sorry to interrupt but…" he continued talking, as they walked to the break room.

_xxx_

_Saturday Late Morning…_

She woke first. She was on her side, curled next to him, and propped up on her elbow. Her eyes took him in and she marveled at how beautiful he was, how lucky she was to have him in her life.

Her free hand reached out to touch him, lightly caressing his chest then, smiling, she let her fingers drift south.

His eyes shot open, as his hand stopped hers and entangled their fingers together. "Good morning."

"Morning," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him.

He deepened the kiss, placing a hand lightly on her back and reversing their positions until she was under him and he was now staring down at her. "This is a _very_ nice way to start the day," he told her, nuzzling her neck.

She sighed, agreeing. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him closer to her.

He lifted his head, murmuring, "You are," he paused, placing a trail of kisses along her jaw line before brushing his lips, so softly, against hers, "everything to me."

_xxx_

They were lying in bed, an hour later, spent. She was sprawled on top of him, her right cheek resting against his chest and she could hear his heart beat begin to slow to normal. She shifted, intending to move off of him, and his arms stole around her, holding her in place.

"No. Don't move yet," he requested, his fingers tracing a path down her spine, causing her to shiver and burrow even closer.

She was content to stay in this moment forever; nothing could ever be better than this. "Mm-hmm," she mumbled.

"What do you want to do today?" he asked and she could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm yours."

Her head came up at his question, and she propped her chin on his chest. She grinned. "You're mine, huh?" she inquired.

"Yes. Completely," he said before touching his lips to hers.

She broke the kiss, almost reluctantly. "Nothing's ever sounded better." She rolled off of him, sitting up in bed, and he followed suit. "Why don't we start with making breakfast—I'll even offer my hardly existent kitchen skills—and bringing it back to bed?"

"Mmm… sounds wonderful. What would you like?"

She thought a moment before answering. "Banana pancakes."

"And pretend it's the weekend?" he quipped.

Sara grinned and followed him into their kitchen. "Ooh, you know what would be better than banana pancakes?" She didn't wait for his answer before continuing, "_Chocolate_ banana pancakes."

He laughed. "Why am I not surprised?" He broke off a couple of bananas and handed them to her. "Here you're in charge of mashing, honey."

_xxx_

_Monday night…_

"Thanks, Bobby," Sara called out as she exited the room, heading down the hallway in search of Gil to share the newly inquired information with him.

Greg came up behind her. "Hey, Sara."

She turned, greeted him. "Have you seen Grissom?" she questioned.

"Yeah, he and Brass took a suspect in the interrogation room about fifteen minutes ago," he said, then spotted Nick motioning for him. "Oops. Looks like I'm needed. Catch you later."

"Thanks, Greg." She continued in the direction of the interrogation room but instead of joining Gil and Brass, she walked into the observation room next door.

The two-way mirror provided the perfect opportunity to take a moment and watch her husband work.

He faced toward her, interviewing an older, distinguished looking gentleman.

She watched, her hands in her front pockets, listening to Gil's deep, smooth voice when—like before, in the kitchen—her mind flashed to another time, another scene.

She could see herself, standing where she was now, watching a very different interview unfold. Gil was in the room, again, interrogating another suit-wearing man. Brass was there, too.

The man in the suit and his lawyer got up, walked to the door, and Gil stopped him. His voice hauntingly silky. Soft.

"It's sad, isn't it, doc? Guys like us. Couple of middle-aged men who've allowed their work to consume their lives."

Stop.

"… we get a second chance. Somebody young and beautiful shows up."

Stop.

"She offers us a new life with her… but we have a big decision to make…"

Stop.

"… risk everything we've worked for in order to have…"

Stop.

"I couldn't do it…"

She gasped, backing up away from the mirror.

I couldn't do it… I couldn't do it… I couldn't do it.

The words won't stop repeating in her mind.

A new life, a big decision… risk everything… I couldn't do it.

Her hands were out of her pockets now, her arms wrapped around her waist in a tight self-hug. She could feel herself start to tremble.

The joy she thought she would experience in having another memory return was notably absent. Instead, confusion and doubt set in, running rapid through her mind.

What had Gil been saying? He hadn't been talking about the two of them… he couldn't have been. They had started dating after the Crime Lab exploded. Right?

The interrogation room scene… it was just Gil's way of trying to get the guy—she wanted to say his name was Lurie… he was a doctor—to confess, that was all.

It had nothing to do with her. Nothing at all to do with her. Or with them.

I couldn't do it… I couldn't do it.

The words won't stop circling in her head.

She closed her eyes and spoke the words aloud. "I couldn't do it."

"Sara?"

"I couldn't do it," she repeated softly.

"Sara? Honey?"

Gil.

Here.

Now.

She shook her head, in an effort to clear the images and the words, and opened her eyes to find Gil staring at her, concerned. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Are you all right?" He stepped toward her, reaching out a hand to brush it gently across her cheek.

"Yeah. I… um… I just spaced out for a few moments there." She gave him a smile she wasn't feeling and ordered herself not to think about what she had just remembered. It was entirely possible she wasn't remembering things correctly or that there was more to the memory she hadn't recalled, which would explain things better.

"Okay," he said, though his voice still held a hint of worry.

Changing subjects completely, she began, "I came to tell you that Bobby finished his ballistics report and…"

_xxx_

_Tuesday Mid-Morning…_

There were butterflies everywhere, in so many different colors and species. She marveled at the way their tiny wings fluttered in the air around her.

She was outside, with Gil, surrounded by tropical plants and flowers. The air smelled sweet. Heavenly. They were lying on a blanket, facing each other. Smiling. She felt giddy, wonderful. Loved. He leaned closer, kissing her breathless. Rolled her onto her back, pressing her closer to him, and murmured sweet nothings in her ear.

She sighed.

Then the scene changed.

Now, they were home, sitting on the couch. Only things didn't feel right. Something was wrong. Something was off. Gil's facial expression was grim, she was biting her lip, as if she was trying to keep herself from crying.

"What's wrong?" she questioned. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shook his head, his eyes focused intently on her face as he spoke, "Risking everything… for someone young, someone beautiful… you. I don't… I don't think you're worth it. You're not worth the risk. I can't do it… I can't do this anymore…"

She couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her face, even if she had wanted to.

He stood and walked to the door, opening it. She followed him.

When she reached him, he already had one foot out the door.

"Gil. Don't go… don't. Please… please don't leave me." She didn't care about her pride; she begged… she begged him with all she had. "Don't do this… to me…" she cried, her voice breaking.

He looked at her, his eyes holding no emotion, and coldly removed her hand. "I couldn't do it" were the last words he spoke as he walked out the door, leaving her crumpled like a little girl's forgotten doll in the doorway.

The scene changed once more. Back to the butterflies, back to the flowers. Gil was still kissing her, and she clutched him tighter, pouring all her emotions into the kiss.

He whispered, "I love you," and she smiled against his lips.

She reached out to touch his face, only to find him vanished and that she was just grasping air.

"Gil? Gil?" she called out in alarm.

Now she's in the observation room.

Silent.

She watched as Gil interviewed the doctor, again. The words… the speech—so cold—washed over her like acid.

She cried out, in pain.

And suddenly she was standing before Gil, no longer next door observing but in the interrogation room with him. Instead of him talking to Lurie, he was speaking directly to her.

"I couldn't do it," he said. "I couldn't do it… I couldn't do it… I couldn't do it…" he chanted, opening the door.

His words continued to echo in the room around her long after he left.

He didn't love her… he didn't.

She had no one.

"Sara…"

She was alone.

She was shaking. Shaking because she was crying so hard.

"Sara… Sara. Honey…"

She heard the voice again. So sweet, so beautiful. So _deceptively _loving. She was shaking… why couldn't she stop?

No. No… someone was shaking her. That's not right, she thought. She was alone.

But she kept hearing her name being said, over and over. "Sara, wake up!" The tone was now pleading.

The masculine voice sounded garbled, muffling its way through the fogginess of her nightmare.

Gil.

It was his voice, sounding concerned, desperate.

Slowly, she drifted through the fog to consciousness, wanting to answer him. To tell him she was okay, not to worry. She opened her eyes, found herself staring into blue.

Her brain though was not entirely awake. The images and words were still there. And so was Gil. He was right there… in bed, beside her. Finally, she realized she'd been dreaming.

"Are you okay? You were having a nightmare." He studied her face intently. His heart was still racing. He had awakened to the sound of Sara sobbing in her sleep, tossing and thrashing violently in their bed. Although he hadn't been able to make out the words she'd been saying, the pain lacing the spoken words was clear.

"Oh." A moment of silence passed before she asked, "Did I wake you?"

"Yeah, you did… but—"

"I'm sorry," she interjected softly.

He wanted to shake his head; he didn't understand her sometimes—apologizing for having a nightmare. Instead, he asked, "Do you want to tell me about it?"

"No." She shook her head vehemently. "No," she repeated. "I just want to forget it… forget the whole thing. Would you… would you just hold me?" Her voice sounded like it was on the verge of breaking.

"Of course. Come here, baby," he crooned softly. He reached for her, wrapping his arms around her tightly, and she snuggled into his chest—gaining comfort in the steady beat of his heart and the feel of his warmth.

Several minutes passed with him stroking his fingers through her hair, murmuring softly to her promises that it would be all right.

"Gil?" She broke the quiet that had settled into the room.

His fingers stilled in her hair, moved to stroke her back. "Yeah, honey?"

"Do you… will you promise that you'll never leave me?" she asked, so quietly that it took a few seconds for her question to register in his mind.

"Yes. I promise," he told her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Okay… good," she murmured, cuddling closer and letting her eyes drift shut again, feeling safe in the arms of love.

_xxx_

_Wednesday afternoon…_

Gil was gone, off to do a few quick errands. She had decided to stay home with Bruno and do some house cleaning.

She was busy wiping dust off the coffee table when she heard the phone ringing. Walking to the phone charger, she noted the cordless phone was not in its cradle like it should have been.

"That's just great," she thought, trying to think where Gil might have left it while heading toward the noise.

His office.

She walked in and saw the phone, lying on his desk.

Knowing the answering machine would soon pick up, she grabbed the phone quickly and answered, "Hello."

A few seconds later, she said, "No. I'm sorry; he's not here right now. Can I take a message?" As she spoke, she opened a desk drawer at random, pulling papers out and searching for a blank page.

Finding one, she took the pen off his desk and hurriedly scribbled the man's name and number down. "Okay. I'll let him know you called. Uh-huh. You're welcome… bye," she said, finally hanging up the phone.

She moved the message to the side and began to put the other papers and things she had taken out back into Gil's desk. Accidentally, she dropped some of the papers.

Bending to pick them up, she almost folded the pages again when she noted the salutation.

_My Dearest Sara…_

* * *

A/N2: *cue dramatic music* This begins the portion of the story where I hop off the always fabulous Fluff train and begin to board the Angst-y/Drama train… (sniffles) Anyway, I'm curious if anyone liked how I wrote the memory of the Lurie scene and then the nightmare (that nightmare was originally 200 words then expanded into over 900 words… oops)? Comments & constructive criticism are always welcome. One more side note: there are a few song references in the chapter… major props to anyone who catches them all. Thanks for reading!


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Thanks to Grace for the beta, and to everyone else, thank you for the patience.

Disclaimer: Nothing's changed; I still do not own CSI.

* * *

She had been nine years old when her favorite teacher—Mr. Coulter, her science teacher—asked her to stay a few minutes after class.

"Yes, Mr. Coulter?" she asked, coming to stand by his desk, her hands clutching her trapper keeper and science book tightly in front of her.

"Sara, you know that the end of the year award ceremony is this Friday?"

She nodded her head, she knew. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He smiled at her brightly, his quiet and incredibly gifted student. She hadn't known then that he always felt her brown eyes hinted at life experience beyond her years. "Are you planning to come?"

"I'm not really sure. Maybe." She bit her bottom lip, nervous.

"Well, I think you should… and invite your parents."

"Really?" She couldn't keep the budding hint of excitement from her voice. Since he was a teacher, she knew he couldn't tell her directly that she would be receiving an award, but it sounded a lot like that.

He gave her a small nod, and she grinned.

"Thanks," she said and hurried to her next class.

For the rest of the day, she willed the time to pass by, checking the clock every few minutes. She couldn't wait to get home and ask her parents—more specifically, her father—to come. Maybe, finally, her dad would show up and think he had a smart daughter and be proud of her.

Later that night, she could barely sit still at the dinner table. Everything was going well. Her mom had made her dad's favorite meal, so he was in a good mood.

She watched his face carefully, wanting to wait for the right moment.

"Dad?"

He turned and looked at her, raised an eyebrow in question.

"There's this school award ceremony," she began. "It's on Friday, and I was wondering if you would come. You and mom?"

He finished taking a drink of his Jack and Coke and set the glass down. "You know I have to work," he said evenly.

"I know but it's at night, at seven."

"I'll be tired, after working hard all day and—"

"It probably won't last long," she interrupted, but then held her breath knowing her father didn't take kindly to being interrupted. When he didn't say anything or show any signs of getting upset, she added, "There's a reception and everything… it's kind of a big deal."

He sighed, as if burdened by her wanting him to attend and even daring to ask. "I'll think about it," he said in a tone that clearly said 'conversation over'.

She nodded, knowing to stay silent and to not push her luck.

For the next four nights, right before she fell asleep, she silently wished that her father would come to see her win an award. If he did… if he saw that her teachers really liked her, then maybe he would be proud. Maybe… just maybe he wouldn't get so angry anymore; maybe the fighting and screaming would finally _stop_.

When Friday arrived, she spent the entire day feeling anxious and excited, her stomach full of butterflies. Her father hadn't said anything about coming, but she just knew that he would—she had wished for it, hadn't she?

The award ceremony started on time, at precisely seven on the dot.

Her father came, just as she had wished for. Yes, he had showed up.

Drunk.

And caused a scene, a huge embarrassing wish-the-floor-would-open-up-so-she-could-just-disappear type of scene. It was a night she wanted and longed to forget, but was never quite able to.

Be careful what you wish for.

She would have thought she would've learned that lesson by now.

Apparently she hadn't.

Dr. Johns had told her some of his patients would hear a phrase or come across something and all of a sudden everything would come back.

She had replied—stupidly—"Oh, if only that would happen…"

Again, be careful what you wish for because you might just get it… and it might not be as great as you thought it would be.

Her eyes found the unfolded papers she held again.

_My Dearest Sara,_

_I want you to have this ring…_

She gasped, her knees weakened, and slowly she sank to the floor.

The handwritten words acted as the trigger to her locked memories—a flash flood of the missing two years of her life came rushing back, like waves crashing down on her, threatening to drown her.

Playing through her mind like a movie, the images and sounds flashed quickly, moving from one moment to the next, second after second.

The Crime Lab exploding, asking Grissom out, his subsequent no, her '_you really could be too late_'; Debbie Marlin again, his speech, her watching him, his '_I couldn't do it_'; being picked up for a DUI, the police department, his '_I'll take you home_'; her insubordination and suspension, Grissom coming to see her at her apartment, telling him of her childhood, her '_is there a murder gene'_, his hand covering hers as she cried; the mental hospital, being held captive by Adam Trent, feeling the hardened piece of clay scrape against her neck, Grissom's eyes on hers, and finally _finally_ breaking free.

Gradually, the scenes began to slow down, becoming more and more elusive, and harder for her to hold onto. Like an overplayed compact disc that had scratches on its surface, everything started skipping around. Images became more and more choppy, and unclear. There was a brief flash of her in her apartment, opening the tiny box and seeing the ring she now wore, before it floated away to be replaced by her sitting in her vehicle, staring at the ring again… and then the images faded to black oblivion.

Her memories were back, and with them, came the cold realization of the lies.

_The_ lie.

They weren't married, they weren't dating, they weren't anything.

It was all a lie—a terrible, terrible lie.

She had been thinking all this time how did she get so lucky. What did she do to deserve a man, a husband, like Grissom?

And, apparently, she wasn't so lucky.

She wasn't deserving.

Her happy ending… wasn't so happy.

It wasn't real.

It was a sham, everything was false and ugly and just so _very very_ wrong.

She should have known it was too good to be true.

Feeling the room spin and the sickening feeling of nausea rising, she rushed to the bathroom and threw up her lunch. Over and over as tears streamed down her face, she emptied her stomach until she was weak with exhaustion and left with nothing but dry heaves.

She stood finally, still unsteady on her feet, and rinsed away the rancid taste in her mouth. She stared at her reflection in the mirror—her pale complexion and her puffy, red eyes. Splashing cool water on her face, she watched as the water droplets descended and fell to the countertop.

Her mind went to the letter again, the letter she still had never finished reading.

Walking slowly back to his office, one hand on her still queasy stomach, she noticed some papers were left on his desk and hurried to place everything back as it had been—minus the letter in the drawer. She picked up the pages of the letter again, from the floor where they had fallen from her hand, and looked at the written words. She didn't think she could finish reading it right now, not when her emotions felt so… raw. So instead, she walked to the bedroom and tucked the letter between the pages of the entomology book that still sat on the nightstand.

She heard Bruno barking loudly followed by masculine laughter, and she froze.

Gil was home.

No, that was wrong.

Not Gil. Not anymore. He was Grissom, her supervisor. Just her supervisor.

Gil, husband.

Grissom, supervisor.

She walked out of the bedroom slowly and headed in the direction of the noise, completely unsure of everything.

"Bruno, hey boy. Uh-huh, I know you're glad to see me… no, no! Don't jump." The dog apparently listened because next she heard him say, "Good boy."

His back was to her when she entered the kitchen, as he placed the bags of groceries he held in his arms on the countertop.

She opened her mouth to speak, to accuse, to demand why…

Then he turned and smiled at her, crossing toward her, and she froze again. The words died from her lips as she felt his descend on hers.

She knew he had meant it to be a short kiss—one of those quick pecks on the lips, a simple kiss in greeting—but her lips, acting on their own volition, drew the embrace out, deepening the kiss, and her hand pulled him closer still, clutching him tighter.

The kiss ended moments later, and he drew back, his eyes meeting hers with a sparkle of gentle amusement. "Did you miss me?" he murmured.

Did she miss him? Yes, she did… and _that_ was a problem.

She nodded and stepped back.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "I thought I would start making dinner—teriyaki stir fry and rice. You can keep me company, if you want?" he suggested, gesturing to the barstool at the counter.

"Yeah," she said, "that sounds fine." She took a seat, crossing her arms and placing them on the counter, and watched him put away the groceries he wouldn't need and take out the ingredients he would.

He spoke as he went about preparing their dinner, keeping up a steady stream of chatter. "And so—" he stopped and looked at her, noting her distraction. "Sara?"

He had to repeat her name once more before her eyes focused on him.

"Mm-hmm?"

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Okay?" she repeated. That was a loaded question. All the confused feelings and emotions rushed back to her, but instead she said, still a truth, "I'm not feeling so well—"

Placing down the knife he'd been using to chop the vegetables, he walked to her, concern etched on his face. "You don't feel too warm," he said, as he placed his hand lightly on her cheek. "Do you need to lie down though? Maybe you shouldn't go into work tonight if you're not feeling—"

"No," she interrupted. "I'm… fine." At his questioning look, she conceded, "I will be fine. I just feel a bit sick, maybe some food in my stomach will help…"

"If you're sure?"

She nodded her head. "Yes."

He still looked worried but accepted her answer. "Okay then."

She watched as he finished making their dinner, but inside she was confused. She didn't know what to think, her thoughts scattered.

In her mind, she went over and replayed the last few minutes, thinking about how concerned he acted hearing she wasn't feeling well.

She knew they weren't married, so why was he pretending?

And he seemed to care, but did he really or was that just pretend too? She wanted to think he did because how could anyone be that good at lying? The only people that good at deception were pathological liars, and she was sure he wasn't one of those.

He had asked if everything was okay… but she wasn't so sure if anything would ever be okay again.

How was she supposed to feel? What was she supposed to think?

Her memory was back, and instead of the joy she expected, all she felt was confusion, hurt, and sadness.

She thought about the last few weeks, from waking up in a hospital to this very afternoon—all the little things, how he acted, how he treated her.

She knew she should tell him that she remembered everything; she should end _it_ now.

Right now, in fact.

She should.

Really.

But… was it so wrong to want a few more days… just a few more days of marriage to him?

And was that just the stupidest and most absurd thought she ever had?

Here he was lying to her, and she wanted to continue to play lets-pretend-we're-married with him. She probably needed to have her head examined again; maybe the blow to her head she suffered had caused some permanent damage—affecting her ability to make good, rational decisions.

Despite everything, and knowing the truth now, she couldn't help but think she had never felt so loved, so cherished, so cared about before—and yeah, maybe it was all make-believe, one big charade, and pretend… but still, she _felt_ wonderful. And she wasn't sure she wanted to let that feeling go just yet.

* * *

A/N2: Feedback and constructive criticism is _greatly_ appreciated, and I promise the wait for the next chapter won't be unbearable. Lastly, Happy Valentine's Day or Happy Singles Awareness Day (whichever sentiment you prefer) to everyone.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Thanks to Grace for the beta.

Disclaimer: The usual "I don't own CSI" line.

* * *

_Friday early morning…_

Wednesday night had been one of those nights with never-ending cases. A home-break in, two related convenience store robberies, and a very high-profile love triangle feud… all ending with death, and more death.

The busy work night, which wasn't helped by a twenty-four hour stomach virus going around the Lab that caused a few key people to be out, meant no one got to go home the next morning.

The most sleep anyone managed was to take a couple of quick fifteen to twenty-minute power naps throughout the day Thursday, and to supplement the sleep with pouring a steady stream of coffee down their throats.

According to the glow of his vehicle's dashboard clock, it was two in the morning Friday and he was just now pulling into the driveway. He was glad to be home finally.

He turned the engine off and unbuckled his seat belt before turning to see if the noise had awakened Sara. They'd barely gotten into the car when she passed out from exhaustion—she had been running on empty the last several hours at work but had refused to take a break, seemingly determined to push herself to her limit which he hadn't been happy about.

When she still hadn't moved after he opened her door and unbuckled her seat belt, he debated a few seconds whether or not to try to wake her. He didn't want to but was afraid if he didn't try she would be upset with him.

Sighing, he spoke softly, "Sara?"

She murmured something unintelligible and slightly muffled, as her head turned toward him, eyes still closed.

He smiled as he reached to brush back her hair from where it had fallen into her eyes, and he picked her up gently, hoping he wouldn't wake her in the process.

With a lot of skillful maneuvering and an equal amount of luck especially that Bruno didn't bark when he saw them, he managed to get the two of them in the house and into the bedroom with no problem.

Pulling back the covers, he laid her on the bed and removed her shoes. He had the sheets in his hand to cover her and tuck her in when her eyes drifted open. She blinked a couple of times, trying to focus.

"Home?" she questioned, her voice soft.

He stared down into her brown eyes, clouded with sleep, and nodded. "Yes." He leaned forward, kissing her tenderly, and murmured, "Go back to sleep."

"Mmm," she said softly, her eyes already fluttering close again, and he crawled into bed beside her, too tired to do anything other than to remove his shoes, and his last thought before sleep came was that he wanted forever with her.

_xxx_

_Several hours later…_

She woke with a lengthy yawn and stretched, feeling pleasantly refreshed from the amount of sleep she had gotten. Rolling over to her side, she saw Gil (it was hard for her to stop thinking of him as Gil) lying on his back, still blissfully asleep.

Her hand reached out, almost automatically, to touch him before she realized what she was doing. She quickly dropped her hand back down to the bed.

She needed to tell him she remembered, she needed an explanation from him, she _needed _to stop feeling like she was not in control of her life.

But was she ready to give this up? Waking up next to him? This feeling of happiness she felt when she was with him—even though she now knew it was all just a lie. How hard would it be to just keep pretending that she didn't know?

He turned over onto his side, facing her, and she stared at his sleeping form. He looked so angelic in sleep, so incapable of lying… and yet…

Sighing, frustrated, she got of bed and headed for the bathroom, hoping that maybe a shower would help clear her head.

It didn't.

After securing a towel around her body, she went through her getting ready routine, brushing her teeth, washing her face, and towel-drying her hair.

She stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, intending to grab some clothes and return to the bathroom to finish dressing, but was surprised to see Gil already awake.

He stood at the dresser, wearing only a pair of boxers, and when he heard the sound of the door being opened, he turned.

"Hi." He smiled as he crossed over to her. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did."

He leaned toward her to drop a quick kiss on her lips, and as he began to draw back, she linked her arms around him, holding him in place.

He stilled for a tiny fraction of a second before he let his hands settle on her hips, the terrycloth towel soft beneath his fingertips.

A few moments passed and she broke the kiss, taking a couple of steps back.

She looked into his eyes, saw the desire—that couldn't be faked, could it?—for her there. If it was going to end—and how could it _not_ end?—didn't she deserve one last memory? One last chance to be loved, held, cherished? Didn't she deserve to have something to keep her warm at night, to hold onto in the early morning light?

Without thinking any further or of the consequences, she stepped toward him again and took his hand in hers, leading him to bed without a word.

Within moments, her towel was off, his boxers were gone, and they were laying down, tangled up in the sheets and in each other.

His hands were on her, gentle and everywhere; hers were on him, memorizing the feel of his skin beneath her palms.

He whispered her name so softly, so reverently that she felt her breath hitch and her chest tighten. Bringing his lips down, he softly brushed feather light kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, finally to her lips.

She sighed, feeling a quiet desperation build inside of her, wanting this, needing this, moment to last but knowing it couldn't.

Realizing this might be the last time she would feel his lips on hers, his body pressed against hers, she felt tears sting at the corners of her eyes, but forced them and the regret back; and the last fleeting thought she had before she allowed herself to be caught up in the rising storm overtaking her was that her forever with him… just wasn't meant to be.

_xxx_

_Saturday evening…_

Together, they walked into the Crime Lab for work, but then separated when he said he needed to go to his office. She headed to the break room alone.

All afternoon her stomach had been tied up in knots. Yesterday evening, they'd woken with barely enough time to grab some food before they had to leave for work, and then today… she had tried to tell him.

But what was she supposed to say—oh, by the way, my memory returned so I know we're not really married… so why did you lie and say that we were? It wasn't like there was a manual or how-to-book for this type of situation—was there even a 'best' way to begin the conversation?

And then, she also knew they had to work tonight, and cowardly or not, she used that as an excuse to delay having the conversation. Tomorrow they had off; tomorrow would be a better day. And she was going to tell him then. She was because she couldn't keep this up any more. This lying and pretending was too hard, too painful.

She needed to break it, to end it, and soon… because honestly she wasn't sure that when this was all said and done and over with if she would ever really be okay again.

Now wasn't the time to be thinking of those things though, so she shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts as she entered the empty break room.

Within the next few minutes, Catherine and Greg showed up followed by Nick and Warrick who came in laughing over some shared joke. They all greeted her before taking a seat around the table.

She half-listened to the conversations going around her. Nick and Greg were in the midst of an argument about who could beat who on some new video game while Catherine and Warrick were quietly discussing… something.

She noticed her hands fidgeting on the table, so she quickly dropped them to her lap, clasping them together.

The moment he entered the room her head turned, as if her body was instinctively in tune and linked with him. The irony wasn't lost on her. His lips curved upward as he caught her gaze. She gave him a small, hesitant smile in return.

"Hey, Boss," Nick said, breaking from his conversation with Greg when he saw him, "what do you have for us tonight?"

"And please tell us it won't be another night like Wednesday," Catherine added, almost pleading.

"It's not going to be another Wednesday night," he began.

Catherine sighed, visibly relieved, and the boys looked happy as well.

"Catherine, I want you and Warrick to take a homicide in the Southern Highlands." He handed a folder to her and she took it. "Nick, Greg, and Sara—all of you are with me. A triple homicide at the Monte Carlo Resort and Casino with two others wounded."

They all started to rise, ready to leave and go to their respective crime scenes and begin their night of work, until Sara said, "Wait," so softly that they almost didn't hear her. They reclaimed their seats, unsure of what was going on, while Grissom remained standing.

"I… I have a question." She looked down, staring at her hands in her lap, not meeting anyone's eyes as she spoke the words.

"Yes?" It was Gil's voice. The deceptively loving voice that lied to her, that made her believe they were married, that made her believe he loved her.

It was that voice that made her realize she couldn't do this any longer.

She drew in a deep breath and steeled herself against the pain that she knew was coming.

Looking up, her eyes meeting his, she asked—again softly—"Why did you lie to me?"

* * *

A/N2: *ups tempo of suspenseful, angst-filled music* Feedback and constructive criticism are always appreciated.


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: A special thanks to **MoonlightGardenias** for looking over this chapter for me and offering her opinion, while Grace was out of town. And also thanks to everyone for the feedback last chapter, and for the patience. I've been sick, RL is crazy, and I haven't had chocolate since February 25th.

Disclaimer: CSI still isn't mine.

* * *

The room was silent, or more accurately, _shocked into_ silence by her question—if a pin were to drop, even people walking past the door would be able to hear the little metallic ping it made as it hit the break room floor.

Everyone's eyes darted quickly between her and Grissom, before resting on anything else in the room but her. He, though, held her gaze, strong and steady. And there was something there, something within the blue depths of his eyes that she couldn't quite decipher…

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She hadn't meant to ask the question here, at work but now, now the point of no return had passed and it was way past time for the truth to be told.

She needed answers. She _deserved_ answers.

Before he could open his mouth to speak, she pushed back her chair and stood, causing everyone's eyes to focus on her again. She looked at each of them, her friends who had lied to her—but for what?

"Sara, look. Grissom—" Catherine started.

"I don't know why you went along with this," she interjected, "but all of you did, for whatever reasons. Hell, it was probably Grissom's idea and he made you promise to… to follow this charade. He is the boss man, you could lose your job—"

"I would never—"

"And you, don't break in. Just… don't." She locked eyes with him again. "Why did you say all those things to me, make me believe that you cared?" Her voice was barely a whisper as she spoke the last question. "That you loved me?"

Maybe later she would feel embarrassment over saying the words aloud, in front of everyone, but right now in this moment, she couldn't seem to care.

The team sat, still frozen in their earlier position, completely unsure what to say or do, not even daring to move in fear that the slightest movement would cause a worse chain reaction.

Grissom was motionless too, standing with his eyes still on her, oblivious to the other four faces that were watching, like a movie, the scene unfold. Seeing the hurt in Sara's eyes, he swore under his breath, wanting to erase it all away. He had never meant to hurt her.

"Sara, I do care."

She said nothing.

"You want to know the truth?"

"It would be nice. That is if you even know what the truth is anymore." She let out a small, harsh laugh.

He visibly flinched at her words. "The truth is," he began but stopped short, so he tried again, "the truth is I know I should have been honest with you a long time ago."

Taking aback by his quick admission, a few seconds passed before she found her voice. "Yeah, well, why didn't you then?"

They were so focused on each other, the other four people in the room faded into the background and out of their minds, until it was just him and her alone.

"Why didn't I?" he repeated. He wasn't sure where to start, what to say; he wasn't even sure he fully understood why he hadn't told her the truth before now, so he said the first thing that came to his mind. "Maybe because I liked being married to you."

Catherine's gasp and audible, "Wow," drew his gaze to her, reminding him that there was an audience, they weren't alone in the break room, and Sara looked stunned by his words.

Sara stood staring at him a moment longer, before she realized she was incredibly close to tears and she couldn't—she refused to—cry in front of everyone, in front of him. Feeling her throat tighten and tears gather in her eyes, she rushed out the door without another word.

The pounding in his head and his heart, that had started the moment Sara asked why he lied to her, grew until he felt sick. He couldn't believe what had just happened, that everything was falling apart at the seams. He didn't even care that everyone had front row seats and witnessed the fallout from his lie. Sara he cared about though, and she just left.

Not bothering to take the time to give out instructions for the evening shift—he figured Catherine could handle it—he hurried out the door, leaving his team speechless.

"Sara!" he yelled out as soon as he caught up with her. She was in the parking lot now. She didn't stop; he hadn't expected her to. "Sara," he called again.

This time she did stop and turn around, trying, and failing miserably, to blink away the tears streaming down her face. "Damn you, Grissom."

Seeing her cry, wanting to reach out and brush away the tears, and hearing her call him by his last name again were sharp blows. "We need to talk. Please, just listen to me?"

She wanted to say no, to just get in her car and peel out, causing the brakes to screech as she sped away, far _far _away from him. But she couldn't. As of ten seconds ago, she belatedly realized she was stuck. She had no car, she had ridden into work with Grissom, and although she hadn't said she blamed the team, she wasn't sure she completely forgave them for their acquiescence of the deception either.

"Fine," she said finally and walked toward his Denali.

While he drove, she kept her face turned to the passenger side window, wiping away her tears, trying to regain some semblance of composure. Sniffling lightly, she decided she wasn't going to cry in front of him again; she was going to remain in control of her emotions.

The rest of the ride to his house—_not theirs_, she thought—was silent. It was as if they had an unspoken agreement between them to not bring anything up until they could hash out things, face-to-face.

After pulling into the driveway, his intent was to open Sara's door for her, as was his habit, but three steps out of the vehicle he saw it was pointless. She was already out of the Denali and halfway to the front door.

He could tell she wasn't going to make this any easier on him, and he couldn't blame her. She had a right to be upset with him.

She stopped at the front door, waiting until he caught up and inserted the key to unlock the door; once opened, she breezed by him quickly and carefully, like she was trying to avoid physical contact with him.

A full two minutes passed in silence, as they stood in the living room.

"You said you wanted to talk," she said, "so talk." She stood before him, her arms crossed in front of her.

He took a breath, exhaling slowly, and sent a silent prayer that he wouldn't screw this up any more so than he already had. "Would you like to sit down?" he suggested, gesturing to the couch.

She looked at him, as if getting comfortable was the last thing on her mind, but still she walked over to the couch and took a seat.

He followed. "I guess it would be best to start from the beginning…"

"Sounds like a good place."

"You uh, already know about the accident."

She nodded.

"But there's a lot you don't know, Sara." He paused as he tried to formulate the right words. "When I first learned you might be in trouble, there were so many things going through my mind. I think I would have shut down, except I needed to find you. The drive to the crime scene… there was fear and panic, yes, but I just kept thinking you had to be okay. You just had to be okay."

He stopped again, shifting his eyes from her to the far left wall, as the memories of that day came back to him, all the anxiety and worry he felt cascading down around him. It wasn't something he liked to remember but he needed to make her understand.

Looking at her again, he pressed on. "What I felt driving to the scene was nothing compared to what I felt when I found you, crumpled on the sidewalk, beaten, unconscious…"

Her eyes widened as he spoke; she had never been told the graphic details of her attack. And while her memory had returned, everything surrounding the accident was still vague and unclear in her mind, and she knew she would probably never fully recall what had happened.

"Everything is kind of a blur afterward. Greg," he smiled slightly when he remembered how the young CSI took charge, "drove the two of us to the hospital. I wasn't, uh, in the best mind frame."

"I'm sorry," she said, not knowing what else to say, and the knot in her stomach tightened as she heard his voice almost catch. She wanted to cover his hand with hers to offer comfort, only to realize how silly that sounded given the circumstances.

He shook his head and dismissed her words. She shouldn't be the one saying _I'm sorry_—if anyone should be saying those words, it was he.

"The waiting was the worst. For the longest, there were no updates, no nothing. All I could do was just sit, and wait. Finally, we—Greg and I—were called back, behind the double doors of the ER to meet the doctor treating you."

It was weird, for lack of a better word, for her to hear these things, to hear what had been going on when she was in the ER and out of it, and to have no recollection of any of it. It felt like he was talking about this happening to a different person, except she knew that wasn't so.

"The doctor, I think his name was Dr. Jacobs, met us in the hallway. He told us they hadn't been able to wake you and you were badly injured, and then he asked who was your husband. Dr. Jacobs continued, saying it was hospital policy to not give out any more information other than to family members—"

"So, you said you were my husband?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

"Yes, I did. It just slipped out. I had to know how you were doing. You had this ring on your finger—"

"And you didn't wonder why?" she broke in. "You the curious, ever-questioning crime scene investigator?"

"Of course I wondered. I didn't know why you were wearing a ring on your left ring finger," he began, thinking back to his shock at the news and then his refusal to believe she was married to someone else. "But then I learned because of the…" he trailed off and hesitated. Did she remember the letter, too? He didn't want to upset her any further.

"I found the letter."

"Oh, that's…"

"I still haven't read all of it," she admitted. "I, um… I started to read it before the accident, I think. Things are still a bit hazy leading up to my attack… there are bits and pieces, blanks still, that I can't remember."

His mind slowly processed what she had just told him. If she hadn't finished reading the letter, it meant she didn't know her grandmother had passed away. His heart ached for her for when she would learn that the woman who had obviously cared a great deal about her was no longer alive.

The letter, he also realized, must have been what brought her memories back… but back when? She had to have found the letter today. Right?

"So, to the hospital…" she said, not wanting to think about her grandmother's letter.

"I said I was your husband," he resumed, her voice serving to distract him from his train of thought. "I didn't think you would mind when things settled again… but things didn't settle. It just got more complicated, you had amnesia and you believed I was your husband. I had the doctor telling me that you didn't need any additional stress; that it wouldn't be good for your recovery. I… seeing you in the hospital, Sara—so small and fragile, two words I have never thought of you as—was hard. I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to take care of you; I thought since you believed we were married, why not go with it? Just for a bit longer… just until you were well enough."

"But that's not what happened, you didn't keep up the act 'just for a bit longer'," she said softly.

He acknowledged her words with a small nod, she was right.

"Sara, what I said before in the break room about liking being married to you—I meant it. I liked coming home to you; I liked cooking dinner for you; I liked waking up next to you in the morning. All the moments in between… I liked it. I didn't tell you because I didn't want it to end." _And… I was afraid of losing you_, he thought silently.

She got up from the couch and began to pace, no longer able to sit still, going over everything he had just said and thinking of the last few weeks too. She didn't know what to believe anymore, she just wanted everything to go back to before, back to when she thought they were married and she was happy. And _that_ was the worst part about this whole thing, mess… whatever the hell this was.

If she didn't allow her emotions free reign, she could even begin to understand why he did what he did in the beginning—telling the doctor he was her husband. If things had been different, if she hadn't had amnesia and lost all her memories, then maybe… maybe things would have been okay. Maybe they could have had a laugh over it, and she could have gone home at night with sweet dreams, dreams that wouldn't have led to heartache.

But things didn't happen that way.

She could understand the why in the beginning, but what she couldn't get past was that he made her believe him… her heart was involved. And it hurt; it hurt more than anything she had ever experienced. To know what she had been living, this wonderful beautiful fairytale of a marriage was just that—a fairytale. It had never been real, and the joke… the joke was on her.

The more she thought about it, the more she could feel the anger and hurt—and it was mostly hurt and pain that she was feeling—rise inside of her again.

She stopped her pacing and met his gaze. "Why didn't you come clean before it went too far… before we slept together?" _Before you made me love you?_ she thought.

"Sara, I tried," he started, getting up from the couch and standing as well, "I tried not to. I didn't want to take advantage of you." Inside, he was a wreck, emotions and nerves colliding. He felt he was slowly losing her, and he couldn't let that happen.

He was getting angry too, why couldn't she just see that he cared about her? Wasn't he proving it now? Wasn't he pouring his heart out right now? He loved poetry, but unlike Shakespeare, he had never been good with words, with expressing his feelings and emotions… and for her, for her he was standing here and trying so desperately hard to make her understand.

"And besides it was you who set up that whole seduction thing," he said, his voice rising to meet the desperation he was feeling.

"Are you serious?" she said, her voice matching his in volume, as she stared at him in disbelief.

A second too late he realized he shouldn't have said what he did. At least not in _that_ way. He needed to backtrack, to get things back to good again, and fast. "Sara—"

"No, no. Don't." She silenced him with a cool look. "It's my fault then? Right? It's my fault that you slept with me? I threw myself at you—is that it?" She stopped suddenly as she realized that might have been the case, but damn it she was hurting. She was mad; she was upset. She didn't want to think clearly or rationally, and she most certainly didn't want to fucking play nice with others.

The hurt, the pain in her heart, was so deep that she just didn't care. She wanted to fling words, to throw something, to hurt him back somehow, someway—because whatever pain she managed to inflict upon him would have nothing on what she felt inside.

"Sara, I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry." When she didn't say anything, he repeated the words, "I'm sorry," and she knew he was referring to more than just his previous comment.

"You're sorry then?" she asked as she turned her back to him so she didn't have to look into his eyes. Was 'I'm sorry' going to be enough? She didn't know, but she knew she needed time to think and she couldn't do that here. Making sure her face revealed nothing, she turned to face him once more. "I have to leave."

"Leave? Wait, what?" he asked, as he felt panic rise within him with that single word.

"I can't stay here. I… can't," she murmured. She couldn't stay at a house that she still, deep down, thought of as theirs, a house full of memories—wonderful, _false _memories. The fairytale had come crashing down, and it was time for the princess to leave her castle and rescue herself.

"Why don't you stay, at least for tonight? Then tomorrow you can decide if that's what you really want. Or… I could find somewhere else to sleep tonight and you can stay here," he said quickly, throwing out words, anything to change her mind. In his mind, he pleaded that she would say yes, to give him more time to make her understand, to make her stay and never leave.

"I can't, I need to go, Grissom." She turned and walked away to the room they had shared together. He didn't follow; she didn't think he would.

She found a suitcase and threw in things haphazardly, not really paying attention to what she placed in there. Later she would worry about the rest. Right now she was far more concerned about escaping without breaking down in tears.

When she walked back into the living room, he was still standing in the same spot.

"I'm going now," she spoke softly, and he lifted his face to look at her, his expression unreadable.

He didn't say anything, just stared at her quietly, his blue eyes somber. She headed to the front door with suitcase and her keys in hand, and when she reached the door and had it opened, his voice stopped her.

"Sara."

She prayed silently that she wouldn't lose it, not now, not when she was so close to making it out the door without crying.

Slowly she turned.

"I love you."

_He doesn't play fair_, she thought, as the words warmed her heart and made it ache even more. The words she longed to hear, and he had to use them, say them, now.

But how was she supposed to believe him?

Determined not to let him see how his words affected her, she laughed instead. "You…" she stopped, not able to bring herself to say the phrase, and instead said, "loving someone means you don't lie to them. Unless that's a new trend these days I don't know about?"

"Sara—"

"Grissom, don't." _Please. God. Just… DON'T._ Couldn't he see how close she was to breaking? Her knees felt weak and her heart pounded furiously in her chest, and little tiny dots danced in front of her and she had to close her eyes, biting her lip hard to force back the tears. She had to leave, before it became too late.

He didn't want her to go, everything inside of him screamed to stop her from leaving. He had never thought he would beg or even come close to begging… but right now he didn't give a damn about his pride or anything else. He wanted her to stay; he wanted her to believe him. He wanted _her_.

But looking at her, seeing that she was trying so valiantly not to cry, seeing the pain he had caused reflect in her eyes, he realized that what he wanted didn't matter anymore. It didn't—it couldn't matter, when all that mattered to him was Sara. And she was standing before him, hurting, and he couldn't bear to cause her any more pain.

He had to let her go, for now.

Just for now.

"Okay," he said slowly, even as his mind screamed, _No_.

"Thank you," she murmured. "Goodbye, Grissom."

"Sara, I… I'll call you," he finished lamely.

She didn't respond, she just turned and walked out the door.

His biggest fear finally realized.

* * *

A/N2: A pack of tissues and chocolate are available with each review… feedback is always welcomed.

A/N3: Side note – April is a busy month of birthdays for me (my mom's is today!), so patience with an update is appreciated.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: A big thanks to Kristen for helping me out and giving me her opinions. She went above and beyond listening to me complain and whine a million times over about this chapter. To everyone else, thanks for the patience. April was busy, June ended up being just as busy; plus, I had computer problems and problems with my muse not cooperating.

Disclaimer: CSI is still not mine.

* * *

After opening the door to her vehicle and tossing the few belongings she'd taken with her into the backseat, she climbed inside, and as she tried to insert the key into the ignition, she realized with some surprise that her hands were shaking.

_Calm down, calm down. Calm. Down._

_Deep breath in, deep breath out. Repeat. Once, twice, okay…_

_Okay._

It wouldn't do well for her to drive hysterical and crying, and get into another accident—that was definitely not what she needed.

Taking one more calming breath, she started the vehicle and gave one quick, final glance at the house she had come to call home before she backed out of the driveway, leaving the house, and Grissom, behind for good.

Forty minutes later, she pulled up to her apartment building and parked, having had no trouble finding her way. She grabbed her bags from the backseat and walked up the four flights of stairs to her apartment, thanks to the elevator being out of service. Again.

Good to know some things never changed.

(While everything else in her life had.)

As she climbed each flight of stairs, her stomach began twisting, nerves multiplying, and reaching her front door, she began to think that she might get sick. She wasn't sure what she was going to find on the other side of the door.

Grissom had told her earlier that Catherine and Greg had, at his request, gone to her apartment and moved some of her things into his place to make it look like she lived there too and was married to him. While she had been in the hospital, oblivious to everything, Grissom and everyone else had been busy inventing her fake married life for her.

_How sweet was that?_

She really didn't want to think about _that_, or about Catherine and Greg going through her stuff, her _personal _things, so instead, she braced herself for whatever she would find and opened the door, dropping her bags at her feet and tossing her car keys on the small table she kept near the entryway.

After shutting the door behind her, she slowly continued forward, until she was fully in her living room. She could clearly see the signs that someone had gone through her things, and of things missing. At least, Catherine and Greg had been considerate enough to not leave her place a mess. That was something to be thankful for, right?

She should be happy and thankful, as well, that everything was familiar, wonderfully familiar.

These were all of her things, staring back at her, surrounding her.

This was her apartment.

This was the first place she had ever called home and really meant it.

So why couldn't she shake feeling like a stranger in her own apartment?

Why did this—how could this place feel right _and _wrong at the same time?

She already knew the answer though; she didn't have to search long and hard, or deep.

Here, she was alone.

Here, at her apartment, there was no Grissom.

No husband.

No marriage.

No happily-ever-after, no white picket fence.

No… nothing.

Was he to blame for lying to her, or was it she for believing him, for falling for him and the fairytale?

Shouldn't she have known?

Really.

She should have.

Right?

Girls like her didn't get to have everything they ever wanted, girls like her didn't get to find their happy endings riding off into the sunset with their Prince Charming. That only happened in the movies.

And this, _this_ definitely was not the movies.

If it were, she would have called _Cut!_ a long time ago, before she fell in too deep; before her heart got broken.

Why had she been so stupid, so foolish?

But again, she already knew the answer.

It was because she wanted him; she wanted to believe him.

He had made it so easy, too. He was always there, always around.

Always wonderful.

Shouldn't that have been a clue?

After all, she knew—firsthand—that marriages were not always wonderful.

Exhibit A: her parents' marriage.

Exhibit B: dozens of cases sprang to her mind, the picture perfect portrayals of not-so-wonderful marriages.

But no, she had believed him; she believed everything that had come out of his mouth.

Beautiful lies spilling from beautiful lips.

He told her he wanted her—he had made her feel wanted. He told her she was beautiful—he had made her feel beautiful.

He said all the right words. All the words women loved to hear, and she bought it all.

No questions asked.

He quoted Yeats, and Shakespeare, to her.

Beautiful, lovely words.

Words… so easily borrowed.

And the only time he told her he loved her was when she was walking away, when she was walking out that door.

Why hadn't she noticed that before? He had said everything else. He had talked of worry, of concern, of caring—but of love?

Love never came up.

Not until the very end.

And wasn't that, really, too late?

How was she supposed to believe him, after everything?

How was she going to ever know what was real again?

Because it had felt real.

It had felt like a dream come true, which it was.

Until she woke up.

Until she remembered.

Until she realized that everything was a lie.

One big giant lie.

So unlike the one big giant happy family she'd begun dreaming about.

Which was not going to happen.

Ever.

He didn't love her, after all.

He just… got caught up in 'playing house', not thinking of the damage he was creating, and all she ever was to him was just a convenient body.

And she… she, despite everything, was in love with him. Still.

How beautifully fucked up was that?

A lot.

A whole _fucking_ lot.

And at that precise moment, everything she had been holding back, by a tiny _tiny_ thread, since she left their—_no, wait!, _Grissom's house came rushing forward. All of it, all the emotions and pain, hit her full speed, and her stomach clutched and turned and she knew she was going to get sick.

She barely made it into the bathroom in time, even though it was only a few feet away.

Several minutes later, after rinsing away the unpleasant taste from her mouth, she turned on the shower, suddenly wanting nothing more than to get out of her clothes, take a hot shower, and put on something else. Something clean, something fresh. Something that didn't smell faintly of Grissom.

She undressed quickly, letting her clothes fall to the linoleum floor in a rumpled mess. After waiting a few moments longer for the water to heat, she finally stepped into the shower and under the steaming hot spray, closing her eyes as a small shudder ran through her.

If only water could wash away the memories.

If only she could forget what it felt like to be held in his arms.

If only… she really meant those things.

How could she really truly _honestly_ want to forget everything? There was that saying _better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all _for a reason.

Right?

And she had, most certainly, lost everything.

Except had she?

How could she have lost something she never really had to begin with?

He never was her husband; he never was her fiancé.

He never, even, was her boyfriend, or her lover.

He never belonged to her.

In any form, or way.

And, oh God,_ oh God_, how was she going to get through this pain?

Her heart hurt.

Literally.

Which, in a really fucked up kind of way, was kind of funny (except not really) because it also felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest, merrily stomped on, and tossed aside without care.

So see, a heart couldn't hurt if it wasn't there. Right?

Except hers did.

Which must mean she still had one, and was alive.

So see, that was something. Right?

Except she wasn't sure how she felt about that…

Which…

So see…

Except…

Except, except, _except_.

Except nothing.

She was driving herself crazy.

Crazier, maybe.

Probably.

More than likely.

_Enough!_

God, she really just could _not_ take this anymore.

Her legs buckled under her without warning, and she fell to her knees to the hard surface of the bathtub with an anguished cry, the hot water raining down over her, mixing with the salt of her tears.

She can't stop the breakdown, and she can't stop the memories of the last month from flooding through her mind.

Chest heaving—

_Desert Palm Hospital. Grace, her nurse. Eyes feeling heavy. Grissom, walking into her room, looking nervous and unsure. _

_Grissom, speaking. "Hi, honey." _

_Husband?_

_Succumbing to sleep again._

Can't breathe—

_Hospital, again. Blue, yellow. Flowers. He had brought her flowers. Romantic, sigh. _

"_Beautiful flowers for an equally beautiful woman."_

"_Yeah, I'm sure I look like a million bucks."_

"_You look beautiful to me."_

Lungs burning—

_Breakfast in bed. "Good morning, sweetheart."_

"_What would you like to do today?"_

_TCM channel, the Audrey Hepburn movie marathon._

"_You're not going to sit here on the couch with me?"_

"_Um, well I thought you might want to stretch out or something…"_

"_Here, come join me. Please?"_

"_Yes, dear. I'll share the couch with you."_

_Silly man…_

Dizziness intensifying—

"_You know what I realized while I was in the shower?"_

"_We need some more cleaning stuff for the shower?"_

"_No. I realized that I didn't get my good morning kiss. I'm feeling a bit cheated…"_

"_We can't have you feeling cheated now, can we?"_

Tears flowing—

_Doctor's visit. _

"_Sara, it will be okay."_

"_Easy for you to say since you're not the one getting jabbed with a needle!"_

_Promises, deep breathing. _

"_Honey, don't look. Come on… just breathe with me."_

"_How long have the two of you been married?" The nurse asked._

_Blood drawn, done. _

"_That wasn't too bad, was it?"_

"_Yes, it was. It hurts."_

"_Poor baby. Would you like me to kiss it to make it better?"_

Black spots dancing before closed eyes—

"_Hey, where did you go? What were you just thinking about?"_

"_I was thinking I will miss you tonight."_

"_The team needs you, Gil. You're the best CSI there is…"_

_His surprise, her teasing, "Why else am I with you. It's your brain that attracts me."_

"_And here I thought it was my body…"_

Oxygen needed, now—

_Bruno. The decision to keep the loveable boxer._

_Bath time outside, water fun. _

"_That's how it's going to be, huh?"_

"_You wouldn't dare…"_

"_Careful with your word choice, honey. I think… that two can play this game."_

_Peals of laughter, chasing each other around the backyard, Bruno barking and then tripping both of them._

_Landing on the ground, breathless. _

_For more than one reason._

"_Shh."_

"_What? Why?"_

_Silencing her with a kiss, then words, "You are so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful."_

Doubling over, pulling her knees to her chest—

_The team coming over, grilling out. _

_Food, fun, friendship._

_Pictures, cameras…_

"_Sara, Grissom. Ready for your close-up?" Greg._

_Leaning closer, smiles._

"_That's all wrong." Greg. "Closer!"_

_Grissom's lap, his arm around her to keep her steady._

"_Fine, how about now?" she asked._

"_Perfect." _

Heart thundering wildly—

_Time off. Lazy days, wearing pajamas. _

"_Games?" Quirk of an eyebrow._

"_Yes, games. Card games, scrabble? What do you think?"_

_Kisses in between, "Be prepared."_

"_For what exactly?" Sparkling eyes, her arms wrapped around his neck._

"_To lose."_

_Playful indignation. "I am _the_ queen of cards."_

"_Famous last words, Sara."_

"_We'll see who's crying uncle in the end."_

Rocking back and forth, arms locked—

_A nice quiet dinner at home. Dimmed lights, candles, music. _

_The scene set for seduction, for love._

"_May I have this dance?"_

_Moment's magic, the sway of their bodies._

_Nerves, excitement, need._

"_Will you be with me tonight?" _

"_Don't ever think that I don't want you, that I don't need you."_

_Lips skimming along her jaw, a lingering kiss, the flickering flames of candlelight._

_Delicate lines and curves, lazy exploration._

_Kisses so sweet, so tender; breath warm against her skin._

"_Only you," whispered._

Head hitting the blue tiles of her shower—

_Waking first. Eyes taking him in, curled next to him, smiling._

_Morning kisses, deepening into something more._

_Sighing, agreeing; pulling him closer._

"_You are," he said, pausing to kiss her softly, "everything to me."_

Palm to her chest, trying to slow her racing heart—

"_Why did you lie to me?"_

_Stunned faces, silence deafening._

_His admission he should have been honest with her, her questioning why he hadn't been._

"_Maybe because I liked being married to you."_

_The house, the explanations._

_The need to leave, for space, for time to think. _

_Her walking away, him stopping her, "Sara."_

_Turning around slowly, holding back tears._

"_I love you." _

Coughing as water threatened to drown her—

Stop—

Stop—

Stop.

_Stop this, Sara, stop doing this to yourself! _She couldn't take the onslaught of memories any more. She couldn't keep crying over what had been, or hadn't been, and what was never going to be again.

Belatedly, she began to realize she'd been in the shower a long while; she wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the water had long gone cold and she hadn't noticed. She hadn't noticed or realized either that she was shaking uncontrollably, and goosebumps lined up and down her arms and legs. Holding her hands up, she saw that her fingertips were prune-like and tinged blue.

Leaning forward slightly, she reached for the faucet, shutting the water off, and using the tub's edge for support, she stood and stepped out of the shower. She grabbed a towel from underneath the sink and wrapped it around her, knotting it sarong-like across her chest. Her hair was dripping wet, and though she didn't feel like taking the time to do so, she spent a few minutes drying her hair, before she pulled it up into a quick, slightly damp ponytail.

Her little breakdown in the shower had drained her; she was emotionally exhausted as well as physically fatigued. Stepping out of the bathroom, she walked across her living room floor and into her bedroom, and what she saw made her groan in tired frustration. Her bed was nothing but the framework, box springs, and mattress. Her sheets and comforter were covering his bed… what had been, for a small moment in time, their bed.

And she really didn't want to think of beds, or the lies anymore, she just wanted sleep. She just wanted a few hours where she didn't have to think about how her life had changed and turned upside down, where she didn't have to think of _him_ at all. She just wanted a few hours of blissful… forgetfulness.

Which was rather ironic, given the circumstances, because only a few days before all she had really wanted was to remember.

Wasn't it kind of funny how life turned out sometimes?

_No, not really_, she thought wearily, as she used the last remaining remnants of her energy to find and locate her spare set of sheets and comforter—ones she had bought to use for the foldout bed in her sofa, which was, of course, if she were to pretend to have friends that she could have and would have invited to come visit her and stay at her place.

Taking the sheets and comforter from the bottom of her closet where she found them piled underneath an assortment of other things, she quickly, messily, made up her bed before crawling into it. She still had her bath towel wrapped around her, but she was too tired to care about crawling back out of bed and finding something to put on. She was still shivering though, so she pulled the covers up and over her, wanting and needing warmth, before she closed her eyes and prayed that sleep would come.

* * *

A/N2: This chapter did not want to get written (in fact, this is half of what Ch. 32 was supposed to be - sorry) and to be honest I'm not even sure of it. Writing angst is not my cup of tea. Nonetheless, I would love to hear what you thought, and hope it's not too disappointing. Constructive criticism is appreciated.


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: I hope none of you almost suffered a heart attack when you saw this chapter posted. It's been quite some time I realize, and I (really) appreciate the patience. Thank you too to those of you (you know who you are) who kept asking about the story and encouraged me to keep writing and not to give up. I've rewritten, rephrased, and reorganized this chapter dozens of times… so here's to hoping that it finally sounds halfway decent.

Disclaimer: See any of the other 32 chapters.

* * *

She came to consciousness slowly and smiled, feeling the warm body pressed against her side.

_It was a nightmare, just a terrible _terrible _nightmare_, she thought as the smile on her face grew.

Stretching, she rolled over, blinking away the sleep from her eyes, only to realize that the 'warm body' was just a pillow she had grabbed and held next to her during the night.

Sunlight streamed in through the slants of her blinds, and she turned again and moved to sit upright, surprised she had slept until morning without waking once. Then she looked at her alarm clock, the bright red light displaying a time of one-oh-one p.m., and was taken aback completely because she had slept almost thirteen hours straight.

She really had been exhausted, in every single way possible.

Her legs dangled off the side of her bed and she scooted forward until her feet touched soft carpet. She sat in silence and stared at her surroundings.

This was her life now. Or was _again_ more appropriate? After all, the few weeks with Grissom had just been an aberration from everything—this room, her apartment, being unmarried—that normally constituted her life.

From now on, again, these four walls were all she had to go to bed to and to wake up to each and every day.

The room felt empty, lonely. Wrong.

She missed him. She missed his bright blue eyes staring at her when she woke up, his boyish smile, his laugh, his…—she groaned aloud, she needed to put a firm stop to her train of thought; now.

She needed to stop thinking about him because if not the tears would soon come, and at this very moment, she didn't think she had the wherewithal to go through another roller coaster ride of emotions.

Wanting to distract herself, she let her eyes wander around her bedroom a few moments longer before shifting attention to herself.

She was still wearing just a towel—she would need to get dressed… her hair was probably a mess… her hands, one rested on her knee, the other was making indiscernible circular patterns on the bedspread—the ring, she was still wearing it…

Slowly she brought up her hand, tilting her wrist slightly left then right, the light catching the gold band and making it gleam. A smile played at the corners of her mouth as she studied the ring and how it looked on her.

It looked as if it belonged there.

It was beautiful, lovely, and absolutely perfect.

Everything a wedding ring should be. Everything she would have wanted in hers.

Her smile died the instant the thought _but it's not yours_ crept unbidden into her mind.

The ring belonged to her grandmother. It represented her grandmother's happiness and the promise her grandfather made to her grandmother many years ago. It symbolized her grandparents' marriage and their commitment to each other.

Now the ring was hers, but it didn't belong to her in the way she wanted it to. Still it had managed to represent her happiness, for a time, except hers never had a chance of lasting because it never had a solid foundation to build upon. Lies of a pretend marriage made for shaky ground.

Grissom hadn't given her the ring as his undying promise to her; no, this wedding ring was just a convenient prop in his cleverly played charade.

A charade she was going to end now. Looking at the ring on her hand again, she knew she couldn't wear it anymore. She just couldn't. It wasn't actually her wedding ring; it didn't belong to her in _that _way.

She spent the next few minutes trying to remove it, twisting and then pulling at the ring, which refused to come loose. Almost wanting to laugh because this was so just her luck, she also felt a faint sense of déjà vu that she had tried once before. It was just a quick flash of a moment though, and she couldn't be sure.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, she made her way into the bathroom, and with the help of soap and hot water, she finally scored success. She held the tiny circular piece of jewelry up and stared at it and then her left hand where her ring finger was now bare.

She couldn't explain it, not really, not in words at least, but she already felt different, strange even, without the ring on her finger.

How incredibly odd was it that by simply taking off a piece of metal barely weighing anything at all she could feel such a profound sense of… loss?

Maybe it was because by removing the ring it made things official.

It was like the final piece to the puzzle, the last straw that broke the camel's back, the end of the line…

It was her acknowledging to herself—and in a way, to the outside world as well—that it really was over.

She couldn't keep wishing that she and Grissom were still married, because they never had been married. She couldn't keep hoping that things were different, because things were _not_ different, and things were _never_ going to be different.

Something magical and worthy of a fairytale story was not going to happen suddenly, changing things, and making everything all right again. She had to accept reality, not hope for something that wasn't to be.

And this ring she was holding, what was she supposed to do with it?

She should walk back into her bedroom, open her jewelry box, and place the ring in there. Close the lid, walk away, and forget. Forget the ring, forget the marriage, forget Grissom; forget everything.

Except she couldn't help but think forgetting Grissom, being married to him—even if it was just pretend, would be easier said than done. And did she even want that?

Even though the memories of the past month hurt now, maybe later, maybe when time worked its magic cure and made the pain in her heart hurt less, she would be able to look back and hold onto the memories with a bittersweet smile because at least she had the chance to know what it felt like to be in his arms.

And yes she realized that probably made her sound pathetic or lovesick… or delusional. _Take your pick_, she muttered aloud to herself.

Looking at the ring again, she didn't think she could part with it, at least not yet. It wasn't even about—or at least not fully related to—Grissom. It was more about her grandmother, and how the ring was her only connection to her. And for reasons she couldn't quite put into words, she really desperately wanted—no, she needed—to not sever that tie, no matter how thin, or imagined, it was.

With ring in hand, she crossed over to the jewelry box in her bedroom, and instead of placing it in there, she searched until she found a thin gold chain. She then slid her grandmother's wedding band on the chain before securing it around her neck.

The chain was long enough that she could easily hide it from view by wearing it underneath her clothing, which is what she planned to do. She just needed to keep the connection.

And she also really needed to read the letter her grandmother had written her, it was time.

She would admit though she was afraid. Worried about what the letter would say, worried about what she would learn, worried about what ghosts of the past the letter would bring to light _again_.

Ghosts of the past and memories she had tried her best to block out, to forget, to ignore, to move on from; and now she was going to dredge up who knows what with this letter.

But she had to, her grandmother's words to her needed to be read. She just wished she had someone here for her to catch her if she fell to pieces.

She didn't have anyone though, not anymore, and she would manage to survive just fine. She always did, didn't she?

Still that didn't mean she was unwilling to do whatever else she could think of to put off reading that letter, even if it just amounted to a few more minutes of reprieve from her past.

After taking her time with her usual waking up routine of brushing her teeth and washing her face, she walked over to her closet—without thinking—and found it almost completely empty. The same could be said about her dresser drawers.

It was a good thing she still had the state of mind yesterday to toss most of her clothing into a suitcase before… well, just before. Finding clothes in the borrowed suitcase where she left it last night, she grabbed the first pair of jeans and shirt she found and changed into them in the guest bathroom.

And because she still dreaded the letter, she moved into the kitchen next. She wasn't hungry, but even if she had been, it wasn't as if there would be much edible enough to eat anyway. Nonetheless, she scrounged around in her pantry until she found a small package of tea.

She would make a cup of hot chamomile tea. It was a small delay, she knew, to put off reading her grandmother's letter, but she didn't care. Besides chamomile was known for its calming, comforting effect, which considering the circumstances of her life right now it was both appropriate and very _very_ needed.

Several minutes later she carried the mug of steaming hot tea to the living room, placing it on her coffee table, before she retrieved the letter from where she had placed it—between the pages of the entomology textbook.

Sitting down on the couch with the letter, she unfolded the two handwritten pages with great care and apprehension.

_My Dearest Sara,_

_I want you to have this ring. It was my wedding ring. I don't even know if you'll remember me at all, but I'm your grandmother—your mother's mother. _

Last time, she hadn't read past these few lines before she tossed the letter aside, placing it on her nightstand to read later when she came back home from shift. Except she hadn't come home from shift, she had begun living another life.

She shook her head as if to say no to those thoughts and refocused her attention to the pages she held, words and phrases jumping out as she read along.

_--such a sweet child, so inquisitive and bright… always determined to see the best in people._

_Your mother was so full of life… friendly and outgoing… everyone wanted to be her friend… the most optimistic outlook… _

_--excited because the co-captain of the high school football team had asked her out… he was your father… your parents won Homecoming King and Queen._

_After prom, the two were inseparable... "JoeandLaura" quickly became a single word… it was young love._

At any moment, she half expected to hear one of those voiceovers like the ones from a television game show, saying in an enthusiastic, booming voice:

SARA SIDLE, You've Just Won a FREE One Way Ticket to Your Past!

(Sorry no refunds allowed.)

This friendly, optimistic young woman her grandmother talked of… who was that exactly? Was it really her mother? Could it have been? It was hard to reconcile the woman she remembered as her mother with this happier young woman and to believe that they use to be one and the same.

And reading about her parents, it was just as hard to believe that these two young people her grandmother wrote about and who sounded so very much in love had actually been her parents at one point.

_--with all the light and excitement shining through her brown eyes… she and Joe were getting married after graduation. _

_--eloping… your mother called me three months later to tell me that she was pregnant… your parents bought a little one-story house a few streets away, I could not have been more thrilled._

_When your brother was born, it was a happy day… things were good._

_--pregnant again… found out she was going to have a little girl… every little girl needs a pink room, your mother said… she was so ecstatic to be getting her little girl finally._

_You were the most beautiful baby in the world, and you came into this world laughing… you were my sweet little angel… oh, how I loved you._

_I can't pinpoint exactly when it happened, but things slowly began to change… you might have been about two years old when your mother began to lose some of her sparkle on life… it started with small things…_

Small things… _oh, God, oh, God; ohGodohGodoh—_

She couldn't do this. This 'trip' down memory lane was dangerous and treacherous, littered with hidden holes and steep cliffs, and it…

It hurt, she realized with some astonishment. Reading that there had been happiness in her parents' lives and marriage—if only for a short while—hurt. What happened? Why had it gone so terribly wrong?

She didn't want to read any further. She knew it might be cowardly, but she didn't care either. She wished she could just walk away from the letter. Why did it even matter? What good would it do her to open up old wounds again, wounds that hadn't ever really healed to begin with? Would it change anything?

No, it wouldn't; nothing you did now could change the past. She already knew that lesson a little too well.

Laying the pages on the coffee table, she stood and walked a few steps away, hands clutched tightly in front of her. She really wanted to hop off the train to her past, but… maybe this was something she needed to read. Turning around, she walked back to the coffee table, looking down at the pages staring up at her, mocking her, taunting her almost.

She could do this, she _could_. Sitting back down on the sofa, she picked up the letter and began to read once more.

Her unanswered _what happened_ moments earlier was now being answered through her grandmother's words. She sat and read how her happy childhood that she couldn't remember slowly dissolved and became the nightmare that she did remember.

_--Joe drinking more… that once a month beer though became a once a week beer and finally a beer every day until he moved onto harder liquor._

_It was that year that I first saw a bruise on Laura's arm… she was startled that I had seen it… then she laughed and said something like: "You know me, I'm clumsy these days. I must have run into the door." _

_--the bruises became more frequent… Laura took to wearing long sleeve shirts, even in the summer months… couldn't always hide the bruises… the __injuries piled up: a dislocated shoulder, a sprained wrist, a broken arm. _

_I tried to talk to Laura… first, to get marriage counseling—hoping that would help—and then finally, to leave him. _

_She refused… she loved him… it wasn't that bad… he really didn't mean to hurt her… besides, it was __her fault most of the time. _

_Our relationship became strained… we would get into arguments about her continuing to stay… one of our last conversations was full of anger… I told her to think of you and Jack… she wouldn't listen… told me to go to hell because she didn't need me anymore._

_--didn't __recognize this woman she had become… her__ father and I hadn't raised her to be someone's punching bag. _

_--your parents moved… I tried to talk to Laura once more… begged her to leave… even started crying… her eyes, they were weary and defeated… she told me that she was staying with him… after all, the vows had said 'in good times and bad times'._

She wasn't sure when she started shaking or biting down on her lip so hard she drew blood; she didn't realize either action until she started to cry and the tears began falling—large wet blobs onto the pages she held, mixing with the ink and blurring the words.

Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest, and a feeling of nausea settled deep within her stomach. She wiped her eyes with the back of her shirtsleeve and did her best to undo the damage her tears had already done to her grandmother's letter.

With an unsteady breath, she resumed reading, as her heart continued its fast beat.

_It wasn't until six years later that I heard anything else… your grandfather was not doing well… had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's. _

She felt a quick wave of sympathy for her grandmother and how hard it must have been for her to cope with and to take care of her husband, while as each day passed it brought her closer and closer to losing him to the unforgiving disease.

_I turned on the news and heard the headline, "Woman kills abusive husband. They had two children."_

_I went to visit her at the jail once while she was standing trial… went to ask if she needed anything… she said no… I asked about you and your brother… she said that you didn't need me… you didn't even remember me… she told me that she had told you I was dead._

_--I kept up a steady stream of birthday and Christmas cards for you and your brother._

_--you were placed in foster care… I thought about seeing if I could take you home… wished for it… but I also thought she doesn't know me… maybe it would be better if I didn't make her life any more difficult._

_I don't know if I made the right choice or not… I want to hope that I did._

As she read _and now I'm dying_, it came crashing back to her. Her grandmother was no longer alive. That was why she had been sent the package. She remembered now—the envelope that held this letter and the ring she now wore around her neck also contained a brief letter from her grandmother's attorney explaining that her grandmother had passed away.

She didn't even remember this woman, who apparently cared a lot about her. It wasn't fair after all this time—and frankly, it sucked—to learn she could have had this person in her life who loved her very much and she hadn't been allowed to see her. Her emotions wavered between anger and sadness at the thought that she was never going to have the chance to get to know her grandmother; it was too late.

And there was something wonderful yet heartbreaking in learning that her grandmother had sent her birthday and Christmas cards every year and that she had—if circumstances had been better—wanted to come and take her away from the foster care system.

All these years she believed she had no one that really cared for her and now she was finding out that hadn't been the case. It was a lot for her to take in, and she knew it would take a while for her to come to terms with what she was learning; and she still had more to read.

_--I desperately wanted to find out how you were doing…_

It was a huge shock to read that her grandmother had hired a private detective and learned about her life she had been living here in Vegas. And then her grandmother saying she was proud of her… it brought a watery smile to her face.

Reading the next few lines about marriage—_you deserve all the happiness that life can offer you… the man you marry will be the luckiest man on earth… I just hope he is worthy of you—_brought more tears to her eyes but she quickly wiped them away.

_I want you know that I'm so sorry for not trying harder and for not being able to get your mother to leave your father. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to take you out of foster care. I hope you can forgive me one day._

_I love you, my sweet angel. And my biggest regret in life is that I am never going to get the chance to tell you that again to your face._

_Your Grandmother,_

_Mary Elizabeth Thompson_

She carefully placed the letter down and finally allowed herself to give in to the tears already beginning to spill.

She cried for the little girl who had missed out on having a grandmother around to do the grandmotherly things she had always heard about—like teaching her how to bake cookies and spoiling her too much. She cried for the adult she was now who missed out on getting to know her grandmother because the cancer had taken her away too soon. She cried because life was unfair, and she hated that she couldn't tell her grandmother she hadn't needed to ask for forgiveness from her because there was nothing to be forgiven.

Finally she cried because she was never going to have the chance to tell her grandmother that she loved her too.

And much later after crying all she could, she picked herself up from the couch and walked into the bathroom to clean up her face. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was red. She looked as if she had gone through an emotional wringer, which is exactly the way she felt.

Returning to the living room after cleaning herself up, she saw the mug of tea she had made and that had remained untouched but for a few small sips. Sighing she picked it up and carried the mug to the sink, dumping its contents and washing it quickly.

As she stood in her kitchen and looked around her apartment, she thought about her grandmother's letter and what it had said and about the last few days and how so much had happened and changed.

Maybe some people would think she wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind to make a big decision, but once she had made it, she almost felt lighter. She knew what she wanted to do.

Grabbing the phone book and her cell phone, she located the number she was looking for and dialed it quickly without giving herself a chance to change her mind. "Hi, I would like to book the next available flight to San Francisco please…"

* * *

A/N2: Saying I struggled with this chapter would be an understatement, so constructive feedback would be much appreciated. Also, show of hands – the ending, how many saw that coming?


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